


Casual Was Never Really Your Style

by Isis_McGee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Canon Divergent After TWS, Casual Sex, F/M, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oral Sex, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Pop Culture, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Smoking, Smut, Some Plot, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Stucky endgame, Top Brock Rumlow, Top Sam Wilson, Top Steve Rogers, framed narrative, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis_McGee/pseuds/Isis_McGee
Summary: Steve Rogers is not a virgin; he wasn't in the 20th century, and he isn't in the 21st either, even if in the 21st the sex he's having comes with a lot more baggage and learning despite it being casual. Until, of course, he gets Bucky back.aka 5 times Steve Rogers has casual sex and 1 time it's not so casual.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've broken this up into chapters so you can skip to the particular pairing you want if you'd like to.

“Was it your first time doing that since 1945?” Natasha asks, a smile curling her lips, turning her head to look at Steve. They’re both sprawled out, breathing heavily, and Steve barely feels like he has the energy to roll his eyes. He’s never asked what Natasha was given, or _if_ she was given any enhancements, but after having sex with her? Yeah, Steve doesn’t have the whole story. He’s worn out.

He snorts out a little laugh and twists his neck to face her. “That bad, huh?” he says, repeating the conversation they had all those months ago. She lets out what could only be called a giggle, and Steve loves the sound. Natasha deserves to make that sound more.

“I definitely didn’t say that,” she tells him as she reaches her arms over her head to stretch out. Steve hears her shoulders pop and her sigh. She catches his eye again. “Spill. Who’ve you been sleeping with since your time in the twenty-first century.” She goes so far as to waggle her eyebrows like a teenage girl and Steve laughs again.

“A gentleman doesn’t tell,” he says. That gets her to laugh.

“Rogers, after that performance, I’m not sure you can call yourself a gentleman. I might have bruises on my wrists for days.” Before he can apologize, she cuts him off. “That isn’t a bad thing, Steve. Did you hear me complaining? I was not complaining. I knew what I wanted.”

Steve’s ears burn red and he can’t hide a smug little grin; he can’t help it—he is, after all, only a 30-year-old man, and making Natasha feel good seems like an accomplishment he can feel proud of without any second thought. She looks at him for a few moments, still smiling, but clearly patiently waiting for him to elaborate.

“You really wanna know?”

“Who Captain America’s been fucking since he came back from the dead? Yes, of course. Especially because Clint bet me why you weren’t taking up any of my matchmaking offers, and I need to know exactly why he was wrong.”

Steve furrows his brow and turns so he’s propped up on an elbow. “What did he think?”

“That is not the point, Steve.” Natasha pokes him in the chest and he flops back down dramatically.

“Hill—"

“Oh, way to go, Maria—”

“Sam.” Natasha nods a little, clearly unsurprised. “Stark.”

At that, Natasha sits up, and the sheet she’d been burrowed under falls to her lap. There’s a bite mark on her left breast that stands out against her white skin. She’s too disciplined to gape, but she blinks a few times at Steve, and his mouth twists up trying not to laugh. She narrows her eyes.

“That’s not a joke,” Steve answers before she asks. “Tony and I slept together a little bit after New York, right before I came to D.C. to join SHIELD.”

“I owe Bruce ten dollars,” she grumbles.

Steve squawks at that “What?” Then it’s Natasha trying not to laugh. Steve just lets out a sigh and sits up too. He’s not ashamed of having slept with Tony, not really, but he really doesn’t like everyone knowing his business, and he certainly wants to know what the hell Bruce saw that gave it away. Especially when Natasha was shocked.

“That it? I make number 4?” She looks genuinely curious and not judgmental at all. Steve is tempted to lie and almost does.

He looks away. “No,” he says quietly. “Five. Unfortunately, you’re number five.”

She must see something in the slant of his shoulders because she moves so her knee bumps his leg. She reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze. She doesn’t ask, but the truth hangs there between them: Steve Rogers slept with a member of Hydra. They both know whose name he’s not saying.

“You didn’t know before you did it, Steve,” she tells him after a moment. The joking nature of the conversation has died, and it’s clear they both desperately want it back. “Everyone got lied to.” She’s quieter when she continues, “We all trusted the wrong people.”

Steve thinks about how young they both are at that moment. How young they both are, and how much they’ve endured, and he can’t help but use Natasha’s hand in his to pull her toward him and kiss her again. It’s a kiss that expects nothing. Steve just wants her to feel good again and to remember that they’re both still there and still alright. She smiles against his mouth before they pull apart. He wants to give her what she gave to him.

A glimmer of the lightheartedness from before is back in her eyes. She twists and reaches over the side of the bed where some of the pillows fell to the floor and she fluffs them up against the headboard. She lounges back on them and grins over at Steve.

“So, you gonna tell me about all these sex-capades?” Steve opens his mouth to respond, and she cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “I know, a gentleman doesn’t tell, but c’mon, it’s me. It’s not like either one of us going to grab a beer and brag about our conquests and don’t you want to just a little? I mean, I know you’re the poster boy for American virility and all, but we’re not talking about you sleeping with your average looking people in that list.”

Steve laughs and takes his own pillow from behind him to whack her with it. It makes her laugh too, and suddenly Steve does want to tell her. He thinks about how Bucky used to tell him all about his dates before the war and how he was always so jealous. He wanted to have stories to tell too. Now he does, and Natasha wants to listen if her grin is anything to go by.

“You’re a good friend, Natasha,” he says before he thinks about it.

“And you’re a sap, Rogers,” she says with a fond roll of her eyes. She’s got a bit of a blush on her neck though. “Now spill.”


	2. Steve Rogers/Maria Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria Hill helps Steve with the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've just skipped to this chapter for the Steve/Maria content, please know that *** indicates a jump back to the framing narrative of Steve and Natasha talking.

“We’re gonna need to get you up to speed on a few things, Cap,” Fury said. Steve had just met the man, but he could tell he wanted to smirk. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond.

“I don’t suppose there’s a book that will cover everything from 1945 to now, is there?”

Fury did smirk outright at that. “Not a book, no. But,” he started, pulling what Steve would learn was a smartphone out of his pocket, “I think a little thing called the internet will be helpful. And, so will having a guide through it.”

At his words, a woman with high cheekbones and a strong jaw stepped into Steve’s line of sight. She wore a severe look, and Steve couldn’t help but think of Peggy, despite the obvious differences. She held herself with confidence and strength and was beautiful.

“This is Maria Hill, deputy director of SHIELD. She’s my right hand, and for the next few weeks, your—”

“Babysitter?” Steve asked. Fury gave him a look of concession. “Is that really necessary?”

“Captain Rogers, with all due respect,” Hill said, meeting his eyes unflinchingly, “probably.”

She tossed the same black rectangular shape Fury held in his hands to Steve and said nothing. She waited as Steve stared. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“That’s a phone. It’s also a computer. It has more power than the one we used to send a man to the moon.” She didn’t wait a beat for Steve to mentally catch up with that. “We sent a man to the moon. Fifty years ago. Even more’s happened since then, and that’s not even counting social changes.”

 _God, Bucky would love that,_ Steve thought. It hurt and he grimaced. Hill must have seen it.

Her face softened a little as she went on. “I’m not here to be a babysitter. I’m just here to help.” Her lips flirted with the idea of a smile. “Can’t have a national icon break down because he can’t figure out which butter to buy.”

“That’s a decision you make regularly now?” He asked before he could think and then remembered his manners. “Sorry, ma’am. And I mean no offense to you in asking if a guide is necessary.”

“There’s a facility for SHIELD use that will come in handy for a mission like this,” Fury said, cutting off wherever the conversation was headed. “I suggest that you take advantage of it to get yourself familiarized with today’s world, Captain Rogers. Let Agent Hill help you.” He turned to her then. “I trust you know how to handle everything from here.” He didn’t wait for a response before he started walking away, one hand typing on his phone.

“What type of butter is a decision people regularly make, yeah. Melinda May, she’s another agent, one of the best we had, came in one day saying her husband had been disgusted at her for buying unsalted butter. It’s a thing,” Hill told him with a shrug once Fury was out of sight. She gave him a smile. “But wait until you see a produce section. You ever get the chance to try mango, Captain Rogers?”

Steve couldn’t answer her- no, he hadn’t, even if they’d been available, he hadn’t exactly been rolling in money to buy fruit, especially not fresh—before Hill was pulling keys out of a pocket that Steve hadn’t even noticed and jerking her chin for him to follow her.

“I’ll give you some updates on the way,” she told him. All Steve could do was nod.

*

Agent Hill had been right: he did need a guide. They’d stopped at a grocery market on the way to the cabin that was a SHIELD facility, and had Steve been on his own, he definitely would have had to take a breather before he could so much as buy a loaf of bread. Not that he would have been able to decide. Or been willing to pay that much for bread. Or pay that much for anything, really.

“Inflation’s about 1100% or so I think?” Maria—she’d told him to call her Maria since they were going to be spending so much time together—had told him when they’d gotten in the car. “So, the 11-dollar pound and a half of honey ham? Same as spending a dollar for you in ’45.”

That didn’t make Steve feel better and he’d said so. Maria’d laughed.

“I won’t be used to it,” Steve said when they were done putting the groceries—more groceries at one time than he’d seen in a long time, what with the war, and his ma’s death before that, and the Depression before that—in the car. The car that had entirely too much space. “I won’t freak out, but when I’m on my own, there’s no way I’ll be used to that…experience.”

“Our hope is eventually you will.” Steve shrugged. Maria tilted her head and shrugged a little herself. “But knowing you won’t starve to death out of an inability to shop for yourself is good enough.”

After a moment of watching the scenery roll by out the window, Steve spoke up again, changing the subject. 

“When’d the military finally decide they didn’t need to treat women like less than?”

Maria barked out a laugh, the first thing he’d seen her do without thought the whole day. “Sorry. It’s just that, they still haven’t fully. The military is just a different sort of mess now. But SHIELD isn’t military.”

“You were, though.”

Maria nodded, clearly not shocked he’d guessed that. “Did pretty well before Nick came to me. Only had to spend a few months learning the ropes before he brought me up to be his second in command. Hell of a lot nicer position than I was ever going to get staying enlisted.” Maria paused for a breath. She didn’t look at Steve as she spoke up again. “Peggy Carter knew so too. She helped found SHIELD—her and Howard Stark. She was the first director.”

Steve’s heart swelled at that. _That’s my girl,_ he thought. But all he could hear was the past tense: was. She was the first director, and he was in the ice. He missed her finally getting a rank she deserved. He’d missed everything. He had missed her. He _would_ miss her—he was 70 years away from her.

“I’m glad she got to have that then,” he said finally. He didn’t know how long he’d been silent, but he knew it was long enough that Maria had looked at him a few times, checking surreptitiously to see that he was okay.

“We can get you the files on all of your people when you’re ready, Steve,” Maria told him quietly. He nodded, still looking out the window. If he just looked at the forest passing by and pretended the car he was in wasn’t as smooth, as speeding, as silent as it was, he could maybe pretend this was just another battle.

*

There was a television in the SHIELD facility mansion—they called it a cabin, but it sure felt more like something Howard Stark would have owned, _and probably had at one point,_ than Steve would have classified as one—and that television was as thin as a paperback and as big as a door. It got over 500 channels, Maria told him. Steve was floored by it.

He was floored by the appliances in the kitchen. He was floored by the size of the bath and the seeming ability to have as much hot water as he wanted. He was floored by speakers. Technology was amazing now. Things he hadn’t even been able to dream of were commonplace. He wanted to write a thank you letter to whoever had figured out the internet and made it accessible to all; _an email might be more appropriate_ , he thought wryly.

Maria let him have time to look around and didn’t condescend him at all, and he appreciated that. She was professional and friendly and seemed totally at ease around him. It was nice, and he wasn’t sure it would be something he got a lot of. She’d said more than one thing that hinted at how he might be received in this new age; now, he wasn’t only a celebrity, but a historical relic in so many ways.

So much had happened after he’d crashed the Valkyrie, and even with his photographic memory, he couldn’t keep everything straight because there was just so much information. He could read only so much in a day, even if Maria didn’t come around to remind him to eat and go take a run. She gave him space most of the time until he told her she didn’t have to.

“I rarely had a moment alone in my life,” he explained. “Not having anyone around makes me more uncomfortable than if you sat here and worked on whatever you’re doing. Never had a moment alone in Brooklyn and certainly didn’t in the war.”

“I don’t suppose your buildings had much in the way of soundproofing, huh?”

Steve laughed and she smiled, and from there on, she sat in the giant living room with him, her legs curled up underneath her. It let Steve ask questions easier too.

“The god damn Klan still exists?” he’d grumbled, and Maria had told him that unfortunately, yes—

“Nazis too, Cap.” She’d just empathized when he said ‘motherfucker’ with feeling. But what he learned wasn’t all bad.

“Queers can get married here in New York now?” he’d asked and had looked up at her as he did. She wrinkled her nose, and he felt anger flare in him.

“You might not want to use that word in front of anyone in the gay community. Some have taken it back, but some still find it offensive.”

“It was about the least offensive thing we ever got called.”

Maria didn’t react with surprise at all, so even if she felt it, Steve didn’t know it. She responded, “There’s still people who’ll use the worse ones. Just be prepared for that if you decide to come out. Although just about every woman in the country will probably go into a period of mourning.”

Steve raised an eyebrow in question, and Maria smirked then.

“Captain Rogers, not to be indelicate—” she paused so Steve could snort at that because by that time it wasn’t necessary to say, being in such close quarters for a time— ”but just about every woman in America who took a history class paid the most attention to the World War II unit because your picture was splashed everywhere. Now that you’re back and they would actually have had a chance only for you to be only into men? It’ll—”

“I’m not.” At that, it was Maria’s turn to raise a quizzical brow. Steve went on without hesitation. “I’m not only into men. Got called a fairy for being into men and women in the 30’s, didn’t matter. Not that many people knew that. Before the serum, I would have gotten called every name under the sun even if I hadn’t ever looked at a man. But I’ve always looked at both.”

“The women of America can breathe a sigh of relief in hope then,” she joked, her voice dry. But Steve saw her eyes flicker to his mouth, so quickly no one else would have caught it, but he did. He couldn’t help but file it away in his mind; they’d been in this cabin for nearly two weeks and other than brief visits from only a few other members of SHIELD, they’d been alone. It’d either been four months or nearly 70 years since he’d last been able to do more than kiss someone, and it would have been impossible not to notice that Maria Hill was beautiful.

His gut twinged in a sense of betrayal for even having the thought, but he knew there was no reason for it. Anyone he had to be loyal to was gone, Bucky lost to a frozen mountainside and Peggy to time. She was 90 years old and had lived her whole life. If he wanted to make time with Maria Hill, there wasn’t any reason not to try if she was willing. But right then was not the time, so he just gave her half a smile and went back to the article he was reading. If he glanced at the way her shirt hugged her chest before he did, that was his business.

* 

The mansion may have had a television, but there were very few things Steve actively wanted to watch on it, though he knew people would be full of suggestions for him at some point. The problem was he didn’t know what was realistic and what wasn’t in this century. He didn’t know what was normal.

“Do people normally act like that now?” he asked one day as he was flipping channels. He’d turned to some program where a woman was about to spend more money than he’d ever dreamed of growing up on a pair of shoes.

Maria looked up from her phone and smirked. “Oh, no. Some people do, sure, but no, most people are not spending their whole paychecks on Manolo Blahniks.”

“But they’re real, the shoes? And really cost that much?” Maria nodded at Steve’s question, and he shook his head. He raised the remote when Maria started talking again.

“Despite the shoe issue and a whole lot of other ones, this was a pretty groundbreaking show when it came out.”

“What is it?” Steve asked, looking at Maria, right as he heard one of the women on screen say ‘fuck.’ He turned back to the TV and blinked rapidly.

Maria grinned at his reaction.

“ _Sex and the City_ ,” she answered after a moment. Steve could tell she was relishing in his shock, clearly feeling as though this was something that she could tease him about. “And it’s not even the swearing that was a big deal really. It’s the way they showed female sexuality.”

Steve watched a little bit more, fascinated by the fact that something that seemed so ridiculous passed as important, and he wondered where television as a medium had taken a turn from what they’d expected it to be when they first heard of the idea. But he found himself finding it less ridiculous as it went on. The four main characters talked about relationships and their own sexuality so openly, even if they brought seemingly different attitudes to it; it was impossible for him not to see how that could have been important. By the end of the episode, he felt like he understood more about this century, and it was all from some silly TV show.

Steve cast his mind back to the women he knew growing up and he couldn’t picture it. But he’d watched his mother help enough girls that he knew that had to have existed. “I’m sure there were women who talked like that on their own when I was growing up. No one would have admitted it, though.”

“Some women still won’t admit to being sexual. Some men still don’t want them to.” Maria looked at Steve, waiting for a reaction.

He may have blushed a little a few times watching the episode, but it had been refreshing too. Peggy had never been ashamed of showing him her desire, but god, how she’d had to try to hide that they did anything other than make eyes at each other. The entire nation probably thought that their last kiss was their first.

“That’s bullshit,” he said finally.

Maria just shrugged. “It’s life. But,” she went on, “it does tell you who not to pay attention to. At least as a woman.” Her eyes flickered towards his, and Steve saw the faintest hint of a flush creep near her collarbone. “If I want to have sex with a man just because he’s attractive and sweet and it would be fun and we both need a release, then I should be able to.”

Attitudes may have changed and Steve may have woken up 70 years into the future, but he could recognize what that moment was. He held Maria’s gaze and nodded.

“I agree.”

He flipped the channels more, not paying attention, only seeing how Maria’s entire posture changed and how she furiously typed on her phone to someone. Neither one of them was being as subtle or nonchalant as they wanted to be.

***

“Who was she texting? I never got anything from her then,” Natasha asks.

“I asked her later, apparently she was and I quote ‘freaking out about possibly boning Captain America like my fifteen-year-old self’s fantasy’ to Melinda May.” 

Natasha laughs and Steve grins at her.

“So, how did it actually happen?”

***

They cast glances at each other the entire rest of the night, but neither one of them said anything about it. Steve didn’t want to presume and he got the feeling that Maria felt the same way. But she’d been kind and open and honest with him, and she was a beautiful woman. He just had to show some of the courage they’d apparently written about in history books.

But he didn’t. At least not until the very last moment.

They’d gotten into a discussion about baseball, and Maria told him she’d show him a documentary that he’d like, and the conversation had occurred all while they were heading upstairs like they were going to bed. Steve’s room was first, and he didn’t hesitate to open the door and enter. They stood at the doorway and let the conversation progress until it had run its course. And then they looked at each other even as Steve moved deeper into his room. Neither of them said anything. 

“Good night, Steve,” Maria said, her eyes lingering on him. The silence had stretched on as long as it could and she was the one to break it, in the most reasonable way, but Steve cleared his throat when she turned around. The sound made Maria look over her shoulder. Steve worked up the nerve to ask for what he wanted when he saw her eyes. 

“Stay? I mean, do you want to—”

“Yes,” Maria said before Steve could even finish his question. Her neck flushed pink and she smiled a little shyly at him; the same heat of embarrassment colored his cheeks, he knew. Maria came to stand in front of him and the two of them just looked at each other for a moment before they both laughed quietly.

“Just to confirm you were asking me to stay not just to sleep, right?”

“Right,” Steve told her. “I thought I was reading some signals.”

“Oh, you were. As long as I was reading some too.”

Steve grinned and ducked his head, looking at her through his eyelashes. “You were.” They stood there, the tension growing thicker before Maria laughed a little again.

“You gonna make a lady make the first move, Cap?”

He shook his head, said “no,” and reached out to wrap a hand around Maria’s waist and step into her space before ducking down to kiss her. 

He tried not to think about anything other than the feel of Maria's lips on his and the way his hand was gripping her and how warm she was everywhere. He tried hard not to think of a kiss in a speeding car that he was never going to get to have again and he wasn't sure he was able to. So he doubled down and pulled Maria even closer and spread his hand across her back and he darted his tongue out to tease at the seam of her lips. She let out a small gasp when he did and let him inside her mouth to explore and she massaged his tongue right back. Her hands gripped at his biceps and moved up to his shoulders and then wrapped around his neck to pull him farther down to meet her, and she was pouring just as much into the kiss as he was if that was any indication. He groaned at the thought.

They were both panting when they finally pulled away from each other and Steve felt like his head was cloudy.

"Sorry," he said, looking at Maria's lips, trying not to glance at the way her chest was heaving.

"Don't apologize" she said back. They were still so close to each other and she was still warm against him. He kept looking at her lips, wanting to kiss them again. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head and didn't tell her not to apologize, he just ducked down and kissed her again.

This time he tried to keep it a little gentler. He let himself explore her with patience and feel every reaction she gave him to every move he made. He used one hand to ruck up her shirt and feel the smooth skin of her lower back and she shivered against him. He couldn’t help but pull back, a slight awkwardness coming over him. He didn’t want to apologize again though.

“Is this weird?” Steve asked. Maria nodded but brought her mouth up to his to keep the kiss going.

“Uh-huh, a little, but let’s not stop.”

Steve smiled and went back to kissing her, deepening it, flicking his tongue into Maria’s mouth to tease at hers. The gentleness he’d tried to bring into it was gone and she clutched at his back while he walked them back towards the bed. His hands slid to cup her ass and pull her flush against him and she hitched one of her legs up to his hip to get even closer. Steve grunted into the kiss in want and picked her up so she could grind into him. She did with a gasp and any thought of weirdness left his mind at how she sounded just from that. He absolutely wanted her, and he kissed her neck and grabbed her ass to get them closer. They moved against each other and Steve only stopped kissing her neck and jaw when she was trying to pull her shirt off. He let her and immediately kissed his way down her chest, lipping at one of her nipples through her simple bra. She let out a small sound at that, and he needed to get skin on skin then.

Steve laid her down on the bed and yanked his own shirt off before covering her body with his own again. 

Maria's hips bucked up as soon as Steve made contact with her and he groaned at the friction it caused against his hardness even through his jeans. He thrust his hips against hers in return and he kept kissing her. Her hands were roving all over his back, her fingertips and blunt nails digging into him, egging him on, and it took longer than he would have thought to pull away from the kiss so he could work on getting them out of the rest of their clothes.

Maria's hands went to Steve's fly and unzipped him, and he wriggled out of the pants and got hers undone. He shoved them off her, Maria lifting her hips so he could, and she moved her hands to push her panties down at the same time but Steve stopped her. He let his eyes roam down her body and, god, she really was beautiful, all long and strong and lean. He looked at her until she said "Steve," a touch of desperation in her voice at the way his hands had teased where his eyes were gazing. He smiled at her and then he let his fingertips pull down the no-nonsense cotton panties she had on so he could see the dark thatch of hair above her sex. He pushed his boxers off in return and leaned down to kiss her hard again, his cock finally making contact with her hot skin. He was so turned on he wasn't sure how long he was going to last, and he only let himself kiss her and rut against her flat stomach for a moment before he remembered.

"Are there condoms anywhere in this place?"

Maria laughed a little and she nodded toward the attached bathroom. "There should be some in the medicine cabinet." She was unhooking her bra behind her back as she said it and let it drop to the floor when it came undone. Steve let himself only glance at her peaked, pink nipples before he was scrambling into the bathroom to find the condoms.

Steve had to open two drawers before he found a box of condoms and was tearing a packet off the roll. He was fumbling at opening it when he walked back into the room and he knew it was partly nerves. But this was straight forward and that was a good thing. They both knew what they were getting into. At least he was fairly sure they both did.

"You're sure about this?" he asked before he looked up and saw Maria lying on her side, one arm bent so she was on her elbow with a hand propping up her head while the other arm was tracing patterns over her hip. She looked beautiful and like she was very much waiting for him to come back to bed.

"Yeah, Captain Rogers, I'm sure about this." She smiled at him, and her eyes told him how sure she was. "Come on."

Steve nodded at her and finally got the condom opened so he could roll it down the length of his cock and he felt Maria watching him. He squeezed at the base of himself.

"I'm just Steve right now," he said with a small smile as he came closer to Maria and leaned down to kiss her again. He saw her flash a smile up at him again before she met him in a kiss. It was easy to keep kissing her and get her onto her back to join her on the bed, his body blanketing hers. She was strong and lithe and so warm in his arms, and he loved hearing the way her breath was catching every time they broke the kiss. Her hips moved under his and he rutted against her, their movements just teasing each other. Her hands roamed over his body as his lips explored her jawline and her earlobes and her neck and her chest. Her legs curled up around him and they settled to rocking against one another and necking until he let one hand trail down to her sex and feel her slickness there. She groaned at the contact, and he teased around her clit with his thumb as his index finger dipped inside her slowly. He pumped his finger in and out of her and sucked her earlobe between his lips and she whined. He kept up, feeling her legs twitch a little with every noise of pleasure she made. He kissed down her neck and his cock was pressed against her thigh and he couldn’t help his hips from moving to get more friction as he kept circling her clit and pushing his finger into her until he could tell she was close

“Please, Steve,” she gasped and that was all he needed. He slipped his finger out of her but kept the pad of his thumb pressed against her clit as he pushed his cock into her and felt her walls grip him. He groaned and tried not to flash back to the last time he felt this sensation, and he forced his eyes open to look at Maria. She was biting her lip and had her head tilted back and he brought his hand from her sex to her chin.

“Open your eyes for me?” Her eyes flashed open and the ring around her blown pupils was blue and Steve was back in the present without a second thought. This was Maria Hill, competent and smart and dry-humored and beautiful under him. He thrust his hips forward, steady, without looking away from the blue of her eyes, and she let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head and reached up to cup his face and bring him into a kiss as she rocked her hips up. Her heels dug into his thighs as she did, and that egged Steve on to move more. They rocked into each other, Steve sliding nearly out of her with every stroke and trying to go deeper and deeper.

“Please, Steve, please,” she asked again, her voice breathy, and he snaked his hand down her torso between their bodies, his thumb brushing at one of her nipples before he concentrated on circling her clit as he pumped his hips. Her breath hitched higher and she moved more erratically, chasing his ministrations, and her eyes fluttered closed when Steve sped up his circling and his thrusting.

“Just like that, don’t stop,” she whimpered and Steve obeyed, fucking into her steadily and rubbing at her until he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to last much longer with the way she was writhing under him. And then he didn’t have to because Maria let out a long moan and her fingers dug into his shoulders and her cunt clenched around him as orgasm crested over her. He tried to stay still to let her ride it out but he couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own release at the feel of her until it hit him. Her aftershocks milked him and he bit at her shoulder. She gave a hiss but her thighs tightened to bring him even closer to her and he breathed heavily into her neck as he came down.

“Oh, god,” Maria breathed. Steve nodded against her. He pressed a half-hearted kiss to her skin before he pushed himself up.

“Are you okay? Am I crushing you?”

She shook her head and gave him a tired smile.

“You’re good, Steve. Kiss me again?”

He grinned down at her, told her “gladly,” and did. The kisses were lazy and slow, but they felt amazing. Steve had no idea how long it was before he flopped over to the side and pulled Maria against him. He was on his back and turned his neck to look at her. She was on her side, using his arm as a pillow, and her face was so gentle. He couldn’t help but smile at her and think about how good he felt. He tried not to let any melancholy sink into that feeling, but he wasn’t sure how well he succeeded. The two of them just basked in the afterglow of orgasm for a moment, but then Maria spoke up. 

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Steve,” she told him. She cupped his chin and ran her thumb over his bottom lip, looking his face over. “I’m sorry you woke up in a brave new world.”

Steve shrugged with one shoulder. “This is definitely the nicest place I’ve been since I did,” he said. He dragged his hand down Maria’s waist, a caress if there ever was one. Maria rolled her eyes a little but smiled.

“They didn’t say you were a charmer in the file, Captain.”

“I’m not. That was always Buck. He loved that Huxley book, by the way. People still read it?”

Maria nodded and sat up. She leaned over Steve to get to the drawer in the bed stand, the tips of her breasts brushing his arm. She pulled out the pack of cigarettes that were in there—Marlboros like Bucky used to make sure to get before his dates. Steve had wondered if they’d tasted the same and bought a pack; Maria hadn’t said anything to him at the time and Steve didn’t ask how she knew where they were. “It’s considered a classic now. Lots of high schools study it.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve said. He watched Maria light a cigarette and inhale a drag. He couldn’t help but smile when she passed it to him. The pulps were classics now and women were still even more beautiful in the afterglow. “Now see, this? This isn’t so different. Sharing a smoke with whoever’s in your bed.”

Maria looked inexplicably sad, and Steve wondered what he said.

“Most people don’t smoke anymore,” she told him, taking the cigarette back nonetheless. She cut her eyes at him briefly before studying the way the smoke curled toward the ceiling. “It’ll kill you.”

***

“That seems like Maria,” Natasha nods. She looks over at him and smiles. “But do you wish we were sharing a cigarette? Because I don’t have any, but it wouldn’t kill either of us. I could wear your shirt and go get us a pack at the bodega.”

Steve laughs at her. In another world, he could absolutely be smitten with her. He might be halfway anyway.

“I spent so long being the one to wear the other guy’s shirt that seeing you in mine is tempting, but no, I’m alright.”

Natasha slides half out of the bed before she says, “I’m starving. I’ll bring sandwich stuff back, don’t move,” and Steve watches the sway of her hips as she pads out of the room into the kitchen. She moves like a dancer and like a panther on the prowl all at once and it would hypnotize anyone. When she comes back, it’s with a whole loaf of bread and a package of cheese and hard salami.

“No mustard?”

She snorts. “Get up and get that yourself if you want it, Rogers.” He grins and decides to go without it. She opens the bag of bread and pulls out the top two pieces, not skipping the crust like so many people apparently do now. “Tell me about sleeping with Stark.” She slaps a few pieces of meat and a slice of cheese onto the bread. “I’ve always wondered if his reputation is deserved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky getting Marlboros to share with his dates is SHAMELESSLY a headcanon because of Not Easily Conquered. I couldn't *not* use it.
> 
> I did not do much historical research (the inflation cost? yes. salted vs unsalted butter in the 30s/40s? no), so just roll with it.


	3. Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark just wants Steve to understand what the internet is for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've jumped here for the Tony/Steve smut, note that *** indicates a jump back to the framing narrative of Steve and Natasha talking.

They’d gotten off on the wrong foot, sure, but Steve didn’t want to feel animosity for Tony Stark. He’d liked Howard well enough, despite how obnoxiously obtuse he could be for such a smart man; Tony, it seemed, put that on as a deliberate act. But he was generous and didn’t mind Steve staying at the tower despite it being partly under construction in the wake of Loki and the Chitauri. And he was better company than spending another day cooped up on his floor reading the internet and getting sucked into even more Wikipedia rabbit-holes that told him things were still terrible for so many people around the globe. At least Tony would distract him. Plus, it was time to do something else at that point. 

He was in Tony’s lab as the man himself tinkered with something and ran his mouth a mile a minute. Steve tried to keep up as best he could, and he silently thanked God that Bucky had been so into science and stories of the future because he could at least recognize some of what Tony was talking about from that.

“So, you’re telling me that it’s been 70 years and we still don’t have a flying car that works?” Steve asked, trying to hide the smirk he wanted to wear. Tony rolled his eyes and started to respond without looking at Steve when something exploded. Steve tensed before he knew what he was doing. It was something small and it left barely any mess, but it startled him nonetheless.

“That’s not supposed to happen. No big deal though, just a little mess. Dum-E, will you go clean that up? And don’t make it worse.”

Steve watched as a robot scooted over toward the table that had held the explosion and reached out to scrape up whatever mess was left. It jerked as it moved, and Steve couldn’t help himself.

“I always thought robots would be, well, better.”

That got Tony to look up from his work and level Steve with an unimpressed glare. Steve shrugged, unapologetic.

“Dum-E’s as old as you are. Well, biologically. You’re what? 27, right? Christ, you’re a baby. Dum-E is not a baby. He’s an early model. I’ve obviously done better since then,” Tony said with a gesture towards a wall of his Iron Man suits. He turned back to his work with a smile flirting at his lips. “Who needs a flying car when you’re Iron Man?”

“Would be neat, though,” Steve responded. Science and futuristic tales may have been Bucky’s thing, but his enthusiasm was so contagious about it so often that Steve couldn’t help being disappointed that some of those ideas hadn’t come to fruition. Though he knew what had come to be exceeded most of their wildest ideas. “Future isn’t exactly what I expected.”

“This sky-high building running on clean energy and the appearance of space aliens not good enough for you? Because I gotta tell you, evil space aliens attacking wasn’t really what I expected of the future either. That’s not just the 1930s talking.”

That got Steve to laugh a little bit, and he saw that Tony smiled outright then.

“The future’s never what we expect, Cap. But at least you live in a world with heated toilet seats and free porn.” Tony looked up again, and the look in his eyes told Steve that Tony wanted to rile him up. “And I mean, every kind of porn. Guy on girl, girl on girl, guy on guy, girl on girl on guy, CBT, BDSM, you name it.”

Steve knew Tony wanted him to ask, wanted him to react like he was scandalized, but he refused.

“Blue pictures aren’t new, Tony. I made fifty cents a drawing doing them in ‘39.”

Tony’s eyes widened and then lit up, and a grin spread across his face. Steve felt like he’d screwed up completely. This was going to be ammunition for him. He had to stop him, so he went on.

“They didn’t invent sex in the 1980s, you know.”

“Oh, sure, sure. But are you sure we didn’t perfect it? I mean, there’s more than just missionary with a nice girl after you’ve married her. We even use our mouths now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony so clearly wanted him to be appalled or uncomfortable and scamper away, and Steve would never back down from that fight. “Yeah, that’s the only way anyone ever had sex. No one had figured out a suck job before 1980.”

“I am scandalized for Aunt Peggy,” Tony said, and Steve sharpened his eyes at him. He opened his mouth to tell Tony to shut his when Tony went on with his hands up. “Sorry, Rogers, that wasn’t fair. I’m messing with you and I took it too far. I wouldn’t besmirch director Carter’s honor like that. Although if you two did get that far back in the day, good for her.” Tony eyed Steve up and down without subtlety

Steve blinked a few times. _What?_

“Oh, sorry, was that too much? I don’t mean to alarm you. I’m very free-spirited and you, well, look at you. Who wouldn’t suck your cock?”

“Jesus, Stark!”

“No, he probably wouldn’t. But, well, I suppose if you’re really not into men you wouldn’t want to, but c’mon, even if you’re not, if you got the chance—”

“Tony—”

“Am I making you uncomfortable? Is it the whole guy thing? Because bisexuality is valid and real, Cap. You need to respect that.”

“I know that. That was just,” Steve hesitated there, unsure of how to explain to Tony that it had nothing to do with bisexuality, but it was completely unexpected and not necessarily unwanted, but too much right then. “That was very forward.”

Tony shrugged. “Subtlety isn’t really my thing.”

“You don’t say.” Tony flashed a grin at Steve’s deadpan response. He went back to whatever he was fiddling with as though the conversation hadn’t taken more turns than a spiral staircase. It took one more then.

“I’m just saying, you want to try out a post-sexual revolution roll in the hay with a man and you’re looking for an experimenting partner, I’m a scientist. I know how experiments work.” Before Steve could respond, Tony switched gears completely. “Oh, shit, can you hand me that 1/16th drill bit in the cart over there?”

Steve handed it to him in something of a daze, and Tony let the matter drop.

*

He let it drop until a week later when he found Steve sitting in the common room on a StarkTablet, browsing. Steve minimized the window quickly—he had no reason to hide that he was looking at a list of Ken Burns documentaries since he’d enjoyed the one on baseball Maria’d shown him, but he did it nonetheless—and Tony latched onto that.

“Oh, have you finally started using the internet for its intended purpose? Because I’ll tell you, the free stuff is fine and will get the job done, but you’ve got money now, Rogers; spring for the subscription sites. Of course, that might make you really think about what sort of pornographic material you want, and I don’t know if you want to dig into your sexual psyche that much, what with your upbringing repressing you in so many ways—”

“I’m not looking at porn, Stark, and I had a fine sex life before, not that it’s your business. I’m not repressed.”

Tony had set himself down on the back of the couch and was taking a drink out of his tumbler of scotch. He held it out to offer to Steve who shook his head. 

“Really? Not repressed at all?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I told you already, sex wasn’t invented in the 80s. We maybe didn’t talk about it as much, but everyone knew everyone else was having sex. I was in the army, not a church choir. Dugan spent three days in a brothel in Belgium. No one thought he was learning to knit in there.”

Tony laughed a little, easy, and it was a nice sound. When he laughed like that, Steve could remember that despite how they’d all been thrown together, he wasn’t at war. This wasn’t shore leave or downtime, this was him getting his life together, and Tony was kind enough to let him stay there for a while as he did. 

“But no brothels for you?”

Steve cut his eyes at Tony. “No.”

“Way to go, Aunt Peg,” Tony grinned. Steve glared and couldn’t say anything before Tony went on. “Oh, or are we talking no sex at all? You said fine sex life, but your own hand might count as fine if you’re a virgin. Because if you’re a virgin, a bunch of people with money in a completely illegal Vegas betting pool are going to be so thrilled by that news and a lot richer.”

Steve sputtered, and his pride rose before he thought about it. “So, I either had sex with Peggy or I’m a virgin? There’s no in-between there?”

Tony looked a little blindsided by that response, but he recovered quickly with a small shrug and nod of his head to the side. “Well, I guess I was just thinking about the fact that she was your wartime sweetheart, right? And you’re a noble sort of guy, wouldn’t step out on her.”

“I was 25 when I met Peggy, Stark. She wasn’t the very first woman I’d met.”

“I’ve seen pictures of you before the serum, Cap. No offense, but you were a shrimp of a thing. Which, I suppose some people might have found attractive, lots of people have a thing for twinks nowadays, but that’s mostly with other men, you know? Just didn’t assume some good Brooklyn girl was letting you slip it to her like that.”

Steve colored at that; Tony was right, of course—he hadn’t had any luck with women before the serum, but it was still rude. Not to mention where else Tony was close to the mark in his ramblings.

Tony grinned and pointed with his free hand. “That blush tells me I’m right. So yeah, you either slept with Peggy, which I’m sure was very touching and sweet, to lose your virginity to your sweetheart like that, or you’re still a virgin.” Tony looked gleeful about it. “I need to tell my bookie, either way, Cap, tell me which one.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very annoying?” Steve asked with a roll of his eyes. He opened his browser window back up and started scrolling.

“Very few people directly to my face, but I know it’s been said, yes,” Tony answered and then leaned over the couch. “Come on, tell me. Let me put the bettors out of their misery. Come on.” Steve ignored him. He kept ignoring him until it seemed that Tony was going to continue to stay in his space until he got an answer.

Steve was fifteen minutes into the first episode of a documentary he’d chosen at random, still trying to studiously ignore Tony’s presence and failing when he sighed and finally said something.

“I’m not a virgin and I didn’t lose my virginity to Peggy. And, not that it’s any of your business, but there was no girl in Brooklyn, either. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter; now, will you please go away?”

Tony clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder, much more gently than Steve would have anticipated. That told him there had been a sadness that crept into his voice unbidden.

“Sure thing, Cap.” Tony was halfway out the door and called back. “By the way, all that documentary is going to do is piss you off. He’s got one about prohibition that may make you feel like home. It’s good, if not maddening for those of us who appreciate a good scotch.”

And on that unusually kind note, Tony was gone and Steve was left alone to learn about how racial injustice had existed while he was in the ice.

*

Tony was right; the documentary did piss Steve off, completely and totally. Steve made the mistake of telling Tony that the next time he ran into him in one of the common areas.

“Maybe rather than using the internet to watch depressing documentaries you should use it for—”

“Stark, stop telling me to watch porn. Please.”

“There’s a whole song about how that’s what the internet is for though!” Tony protested and it sounded like the most ridiculous thing Steve had heard, even with what had been sprung on him since he’d woken up. Steve stared at Tony for a moment before Tony called out, “Jarvis? Pull up the Avenue Q song about porn!” and then there was something ridiculous playing from the speakers that littered the entire tower.

“Okay, turn it off, I get it, I get it!” Steve yelled over the din, but he was laughing; he couldn’t help it.

“I just want you to fully understand this century, Cap, I swear!” There was laughter in Tony’s voice when he responded. “There’s so much! You need to know about all the different ways you can watch people getting it on now. Ways no one will even get arrested for! Well, there’s some stuff you’d get arrested for and with good reason, but now no one could say anything if you were watching five guys in leather with—" 

“If I just watch some porn will you shut up about it?” Steve said before he could stop himself; Tony somehow managed to make him speak without thinking; it must have been contagious. And it was always a mistake. Especially then with the way Tony’s eyes lit up at Steve’s words.

“Yes! Jarvis, pull up some of my favorites from my private server onto Captain Rogers’ tablet, would you?”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis’s voice said. Steve stared in horror as his tablet screen flickered to life right there in Tony’s lab.

“I didn’t mean right this second!”

Tony snorted out a laugh and Steve’s eyes went wide at what was playing on his tablet. He’d looked at pornography since he’d woken up—it was so easily accessible and Tony had been harping on it for weeks—but it hadn’t been like this. On the screen, there was a beautiful woman with curling strawberry blonde hair with her arms stretched over her head, tied to the ceiling with clothespins on her nipples. A dark-haired, broad-shouldered man held one of her legs up from the floor so another man, another dark-haired, broad-shouldered one who had tattoos running down his arms in patterns of black and red and green, could press some sort of device to her inner thighs. Every time the device touched her legs, there was a faint buzz and she would twitch and throw her head back. That only lasted seconds until the tattooed man dropped to his knees and pressed his face into the woman’s sex as he pressed the device to her over and over and Steve let out a sound halfway between horrified and turned on.

“Jarvis, play something more vanilla,” Stark said before he addressed Steve. “Sorry, electro-stim is probably too much for your first porn foray.”

As he said it the screen changed to a scene of two men, one on his knees looking up at the other adoringly while his mouth bulged with his cock. He had steely blue eyes and dark hair and Steve couldn’t help but think of Bucky. He didn’t look anything like Bucky, not really, but god, what the last time had been like was suddenly too vivid in his mind and Steve felt blood rushing south. He willed his body to get it under control.

“Jarvis, turn it off,” he ground out after a moment of his brain going offline.

“The guy on guy thing really bothers you that much, huh?” Tony asked as soon as the words were out of Steve’s mouth. Steve looked him in the eye before he could think about what he might look like, and Tony’s mouth curled into a knowing smile. “Oh, no. That’s not it at all, is it? You liked that. You liked that a lot. Wow. Sorry, Cap, I didn’t mean to awaken anything in you, but I hope you know I’m going to take great pride in this now. I hope you’re not bothered by knowing how much I like that one too. There’s just something about seeing a guy with his mouth full of another man’s cock. Hell,” Tony was moving closer to Steve as he kept talking, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the sudden sensuality and grace of the way Tony walked. _Had he always walked that way?_ “That was barely a glimpse, and I’m suddenly feeling flushed. Are you, Cap?”

Tony was right in front of Steve and Steve couldn’t take it; Tony had been angling for this all along and there was no reason Steve shouldn’t just take advantage of it. 

"You talk entirely too much, Stark," Steve growled and he pulled Tony in for a kiss. He wasn’t angry, he wasn't, but it still felt like it was half a fight as the two of them went at each other. Tony's hands moved as fast as his mouth usually did, running over Steve's shoulders and down his biceps and then back up and to his back so he could get even closer. The man could kiss, though, and it had felt like so long since Steve kissed a man. His silly beard and mustache tickled and scraped at Steve's skin, and he couldn't help but smile into the kiss. Tony pulled back and started to ask what Steve was grinning about, Steve knew that’s what it was, but he didn't let him get the chance. He pulled him back into the kiss and let his tongue explore Tony's mouth as their lips slid against each other.

Tony was hard in his jeans, Steve could feel it, and it made him hard too. God, it was good. It was so good to just feel and his hips bucked on their own accord, seeking friction. Tony groaned into his mouth and Steve took that as a good sign to keep going and let his hands wander. He had a handful of Tony’s ass and he used that leverage to bring their hips together again and moaned along with Tony as their cocks rubbed against each other through their clothes. Jesus, just making time like this was great; he couldn't wait to actually do something.

Steve moved his mouth from Tony's to nibble at his earlobes and down his neck and Tony breathed out a grunt of pleasure before he pulled himself back again.

"Wait, wait, I wasn't lying about wanting to suck you off. Can I?" He didn't wait for Steve's permission before he dropped his hands to Steve's fly to work it open.

"Yeah, yeah, go for it," Steve encouraged as Tony grinned at him wickedly and dropped to his knees. Tony pushed Steve backward at his hips so he was against the wall fully before he touched him reverently over his boxers. Tony’s hands were hot against Steve and Steve wanted, oh, he wanted. Tony yanked Steve's boxers down without hesitation and before Steve could even think to tease him about his eagerness, Tony had swallowed him down as far as he could.

He wrapped a hand around what he couldn't and he sucked, and Steve thought it was amazing. His mouth was hot and wet and his tongue was doing amazing things to the underside of Steve’s cock, and Steve let his head thunk back against the wall. Tony kept up a steady bob that had Steve thrumming with pleasure and clenching his hands into fists. 

Steve heard Tony laugh a little through his nose and he looked down where Tony was gazing up at him without stopping. The sight made Steve groan and Tony somehow managed to smirk while he still had Steve’s cock in his mouth. Tony took his hand from Steve’s hip to bring it to Steve’s clenched fist and move it to his head. He nodded a little when Steve brought his other hand down too and threaded his fingers through Tony’s hair as much as he could. Tony let his jaw go slack, his tongue still hot and writhing against Steve’s cock, and he stared up at Steve until Steve’s brain registered what was happening.

Steve groaned “Shit,” and pushed Tony’s mouth farther onto his cock. Tony moaned and the vibration was amazing so Steve kept doing it, fucking Tony’s mouth, his cockhead hitting the back of his throat. Tony swallowed around it every time and Steve bucked his hips as he pushed Tony onto him. Tony let him and made sounds like he loved it and Steve couldn’t help but keep groaning at the pleasure of it. He was going to come just like this, he knew.

Tony whined around him and when Steve looked down again, Tony’s eyes were pleading and his mouth was sloppy wet and stretched and it was too much. Steve couldn’t help but buck into his throat even farther and shove him down to keep him there, and when Tony moaned and fluttered his eyes shut as his throat worked around Steve’s cock, that was it. Steve had to close his own eyes and let his head fall back and he was coming, pulsing down Tony’s throat.

Steve breathed heavily and his hands were still on Tony’s head as aftershocks coursed through him. Tony pulled back enough so that he could tongue at the head of Steve’s cock and Steve whined at the sensation that rode just that side of too much. Tony pulled off completely and panted, and Steve let his hands drop to his sides.

“Fuck.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony agreed. Steve looked down and Tony was pressing the heel of his hand against his still hard cock in his jeans. It made Steve’s spent dick twitch. “How long before you’re ready to go again? That serum’s gotta be good for something.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and reached out a hand for Tony to take to get up. Tony looked a little surprised but took it, and when Steve used it to pull him close, he smirked a little. Steve let his other hand snake to Tony’s ass and pull him flush to his body. He didn’t let Tony speak again before kissing him deeply, tasting himself on Tony’s tongue and it got him groaning. He didn’t break the kiss until he could feel himself starting to get hard again.

“Oh, hell, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” Tony gasped once he could feel it too.

“Why? You have something else in mind?” Steve teased and bucked his hips forward.

Tony laughed and darted back in to steal another kiss, nipping at Steve’s lip. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. You good with that?”

“Yeah, I think I can be persuaded. Lead the way.”

Tony chuckled as he yanked Steve toward the elevator. He hit the button for Steve’s floor and shrugged at Steve. “You seem like you might be a cuddler. I want an out after we’re done.”

Steve shook his head and let out a huff of laughter before he crowded Tony against the back of the elevator. Tony reached out and clutched at Steve’s back, and the two of them didn’t even kiss, just ground their bodies against each other and breathed in each other’s air. It felt like suddenly there was a competition over who would break down and kiss the other first, and Steve was half tempted to stop the elevator and see how long the teasing could keep going, but Tony muttered “fuck it” and craned his neck to kiss Steve. Steve groaned into the kiss and pressed closer to Tony and was reaching for Tony’s pants’ button when the elevator stopped.

Steve hauled Tony into his arms, his hands gripping Tony’s ass, and moving was only difficult because of the way Tony let his heels dig into Steve’s thighs and the way he moaned into the kisses they had started sharing again. Steve navigated to his bedroom by memory alone because every other sense was caught up in Tony and the heat of his body and the friction of him against Steve’s cock and the scratch of his beard and the sound of his pleasure.

Steve let Tony fall on the bed, and Tony looked wanton all spread out the way he was, even completely dressed still. Steve took off his shoes and yanked his shirt off while Tony started on his own shoes and pants. Steve couldn’t help but look at him when Tony pulled his underwear off too and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. Tony jerked his chin at Steve to indicate he needed to get his pants off too, and Steve complied so he was standing there naked.

“God damn, you really are spry for an old guy, huh?”

“Shut up, Stark. Or do you not want to fuck?”

“Oh, no, no, I very much want to. Get over here. There’s condoms and lube in the bedside drawer.”

“It’s my room; how do you know that?” Steve asked, somehow managing to still sound annoyed even though he was incredibly turned on by the way that Tony was still looking up at him with lust and still stroking his cock.

“I stocked the place. Stop asking dumb questions and come fuck me, Rogers.”

Steve pulled the bedside drawer open and got out a condom and one of the packets of lube and tried not to roll his eyes. Tony reached up and grabbed Steve at the hip and tried to pull him closer, and Steve leaned down to kiss him and scoot him farther onto the bed when he realized Tony still had his shirt on. One of his hands went to the hem and Tony stopped him. Steve raised a questioning brow but stilled his hand.

Tony took his hand off Steve’s hip and tapped at the glowing arc reactor on his chest. His voice was deceptively light as he said, “Don’t really love showing this off if you don’t mind. Nipple play never did much for me anyway.”

Steve kissed him again and just brushed his fingertips over Tony’s abs before he settled his hands on his hips.

“Too bad for you,” Steve said, interrupting his own thought by biting at Tony’s earlobe a little. “Right after I got the serum, I made myself come just from playing with mine.”

Steve sucked a kiss at Tony’s neck as he ripped open the packet of lube and let it spill onto his fingers, and Tony breathed out “Oh wow, good to know.” His hands went to Steve’s ribs and his blunt nails dug in. They burrowed deeper when Steve started to tease around Tony’s hole and push one fingertip in. Steve kept kissing at Tony’s neck and sucking on his earlobes in between kissing him as he kept pushing into Tony’s hole and teasing him. It seemed like every other motion of his fingers got a hitch of breath from Tony. He kept going until he could slide two of his fingers in and out of Tony and Tony would chase after his movements.

“Come on, Cap.” Steve shook his head and reached over to the end table again and grabbed another packet.

“Get a bottle next time, huh?” he joked at the exact time he pressed and found Tony’s prostate. Tony let out a groan that went straight to Steve’s dick. Steve kept pushing his fingers against Tony’s spot while he tore open the condom with his teeth and rolled it on. Tony had kept one hand on his own cock the whole time but his hand had stopped moving a long time ago. Steve moved that hand when he settled between Tony’s legs.

He’d spent enough time opening Tony up and used enough lube that as tight as Tony was, it didn’t take much for Steve’s cock to push into him. Both of them groaned in pleasure and Tony’s knees came up automatically. He felt so good around Steve and then his hands came to Steve’s chest, squeezing at his pecs. Calluses on his palms caught at Steve’s nipples and made Steve hiss in pleasure and buck his hips forward, hard. Tony moaned out and let his head fall back and that was all Steve needed to set a pace, fucking strong, hard, slow into Tony. Tony met each thrust with movements of his own and by squeezing his muscles down around Steve, his hands and fingers never leaving Steve’s chest.

Steve leaned down to kiss Tony deeply as he kept moving inside him, and he moved a hand to Tony’s now leaking cock when he did. Tony moaned into a kiss and Steve kept going. He stroked Tony’s cock; he thumbed at his slit, finger sliding in precum he wanted to taste. He brought his hand up and licked there, and Tony watched him and let out a string of curses.

“Oh shit, fuck, come on, fuck. Fuck me. Keep going.”

Steve went back to jacking Tony’s cock and he shifted his hips so he was nailing Tony’s prostate with every other thrust. He felt Tony’s body starting to tighten up around him, and he moved his hips like he was a machine, hitting the same spot every time until Tony’s mouth opened on a groan and his head fell back again and he was coming, spilling over Steve’s hand. Steve pumped his hips into the tight grip of Tony’s hole and then he was coming too, almost seeing stars.

Steve had no idea how long it was before Tony pushed weakly at his shoulder and Steve flopped to his side. He had even less of an idea how long it was before either of them moved. They were both panting, Steve less so than Tony, but he was tired in a very good way. Whatever tension had been humming between them ever since they met seemed to be at an all-time low as they lay there with the sheets balled up at the end of the bed. It felt nice.

But once Steve’s breath evened out, he felt sweat cooling on his skin making him chilly and he sat up to reach for the sheets. He couldn’t be bothered to really get up, but he wanted to be covered and he brought the sheet up to share with Tony. Tony waved a hand tiredly in thanks.

“It was Barnes, wasn’t it?” he asked when Steve had flopped back down onto a pillow. Steve turned and Tony was looking at the ceiling still. “You said there wasn’t a Brooklyn girl. Because it was Barnes, huh?”

Steve twisted so he was facing the ceiling too. “Yeah. It was Bucky.” Steve let out a mirthless laugh. “It was always Bucky.”

Tony made a noise in the back of his throat. “Sorry you lost him, Steve.”

It was the most sincerity Steve had heard in Tony’s voice yet, and he felt oddly touched despite the circumstances. “Thanks, Tony.” 

Steve could feel Tony nod, and then there was a hand awkwardly patting at his hip in comfort. Steve’s lips turned up into a small smile at it. Tony had said he wasn’t a cuddler and wanted an out, but he fell asleep in Steve’s bed anyway.

***

Natasha chews thoughtfully on her sandwich and swallows before she speaks up again. “That almost sounds like it was sweet. Which is absolutely not what I expected of Stark. Maybe Pepper’s really been that good of an influence on him.”

Steve shrugs and steals a piece of salami. “It surprised me, too.”

“Sometimes people will do that in a good way.”

“And sometimes not.”


	4. Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock Rumlow catches Steve staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you jumped to this chapter for the Rumlow/Steve smut, know that *** indicates a jump back to the frame narrative of Steve and Natasha talking.

Steve got caught staring; he knew that’s what had happened. But he couldn’t help it. Brock Rumlow was a good agent, a little intense on occasion and maybe his smile didn’t reach his eyes always, but Steve trusted him to have his back when it mattered. Steve had no idea how much that would hurt later on, but in his first few months with SHIELD, he had no idea that Rumlow’s loyalties lay anywhere other than with the agency. He was a good agent and Steve couldn’t help but notice that he was good looking. And Rumlow noticed him noticing, apparently.

“How’s the twenty-first century treatin’ you, Cap?” he asked about three weeks after they’d been on the team together. He nodded at Rollins, who was the only other person who’d been in the weight room, as he left. Steve paused in his set to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit up. He was fairly sick of that question, but he supposed everyone was just trying to be polite, get to know him as well as they could. Rumlow was lowering the bar he was using as weights, and Steve could see the muscles in his forearms starkly. He suddenly felt like it had been years since he’d slept with Tony, even though it had only been a little over two months.

Rumlow saw him and his mouth twitched up on one side. _Damn_ , Steve thought, but he couldn’t take it back.

“I’m a little miffed about the lack of flying cars, but it’s not so bad. Food’s better. Satellite radio’s neat. Lots of good stuff.” He gave Rumlow the same smile he gave everyone when he complimented the future.

Rumlow let out a little laugh and hoisted his weights one more rep with a low grunt before answering, “Yeah, I’m sure not getting arrested for checking out a guy’s pretty great too, huh?”

Steve blushed and started to apologize, “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“Hell, shit happens in the trenches, huh? Doesn’t bother me.” Steve nodded, almost in thanks, and Rumlow went on. “I’d tell you to be careful about who sees you with Strike team, but hell, you’re Captain America; you say the word and they’d probably drop trou right there.”

Steve sputtered, “Oh, I would never—”

Rumlow cut him off with a laugh and if there was cruelty laced in it, it was smothered by genuine amusement. “I know. I get it. But like I said, shit happens out there.”

Rumlow dropped his weights and grabbed a towel from the pile near the mirror. He wiped his face then slung it around his neck and nodded to Steve. There was something in his eyes that made Steve’s insides burn. “Have a good one.”

Steve stayed in the gym another hour trying to work off the feeling in his gut.

***

“You don’t have to tell me about this one, Steve.” Natasha’s voice is gentle as she says it, and she lets her thumb trace circles on his wrist. Steve gives her a soft smile.

“Not much else to tell. It happened after that Bratislava mission.” Natasha nods once in understanding. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done something stupid post-op. Thought it was just getting rid of that keyed-up energy with a teammate. I didn’t know.”

“I’m not judging you.”

***

Rumlow kissed like he wanted to split lips and god damnit if that wasn’t what Steve needed right then. The mission had been god awful and he didn’t get to hit anything and he needed to not have to think right then. Brock Rumlow’s tongue in his mouth and hands shoving his shoulders to the wall of the jet would absolutely help that.

He was hard as hell in his tac pants and Steve knew this was a bad idea on some level but he couldn't stop. Rumlow was solid under his hands and his grip was tight where it dug into Steve, his hands moving from shoulders to waist to ass and back all without seeming aim. Steve just wanted to feel his touch everywhere. It meant he didn't have to think. He let out a hiss when Rumlow's mouth latched onto his throat. He sucked and his teeth bit into Steve's pulse point. Steve could feel Rumlow's grin against his skin and he couldn't help but yank his head back so he could kiss him stupid. Rumlow didn't give him an inch, but Steve surged forward and it was almost easy to move him. He had Rumlow back against the other side of the ship in seconds and then he was grinning.

Rumlow's fingers turned hurtful where they scratched at Steve's shoulders and Steve groaned. Rumlow shoved a leg between Steve's, and Steve's breath caught with the edge of pain. Rumlow’s thighs were solid and hard against where Steve's cock was straining against his pants. When Rumlow shifted his leg a bit to give Steve friction, Steve couldn’t help but groan out again.

"Oh, you like that, huh, big guy?" Rumlow hissed before he attached his teeth to Steve's ear lobe, hard. Steve whined. He did like it. He didn't want to, but he did. His hips bucked against Rumlow's leg. Then Rumlow's hands weren’t gripping him anymore but were flat against Steve's chest as he was pushing back. Steve stumbled a little, caught off guard, and then Rumlow was pushing one shoulder so Steve was turned around and facing the opposite wall. Rumlow kicked out at one of Steve's legs, and he tripped back to the other side of the jet and it almost knocked the breath out of him. He wanted to protest, but Rumlow was pasted hot against his back and his hard cock ground against Steve's ass. He couldn't help but rock back into that feeling. 

A low chuckle emanated from Rumlow's chest then and his lips found Steve's neck again even as his hands started pawing at Steve's uniform to peel him out of it.

"You like this too, huh? You like being manhandled like this?" Rumlow ground his cock achingly slow and hard against Steve's ass and he pinched at Steve's nipples where he'd gotten the top of his suit off. "You wanna get fucked like this, huh?"

Steve keened, god help him; he didn't want to, but it felt good. It felt good to not think and to just feel how Rumlow was toying with him, not treating him with reverence or like he was fragile. He wanted to get fucked without thinking about it and he breathed out a "Yes."

"Say it again, Cap. Tell me you wanna get fucked."

"Fuck me," Steve ground out, turning his face so he could try to capture Rumlow's mouth in another kiss. Rumlow grabbed Steve's jaw and the kiss they shared was brutal. Steve couldn’t help but keep grinding his hips back, wanton and desperate. He brought one of his hands down to fumble with his pants and started to push them down. Rumlow brought the hand not gripping Steve’s chin down to shove into the front of his open fly and he palmed at Steve’s cock. He smirked against Steve’s mouth.

“Yeah, you love this, huh?” He was panting as he rubbed roughly over Steve’s cock and Steve was panting right back. It was just on the wrong side of painful and he wanted more. Steve let his one hand reach behind him and grip at Rumlow’s ass and pull him even closer. His fingertips dug into the meat of him and he heard Rumlow hiss. He let go of Steve’s chin and worked his hand down between their bodies to get at his own pants before shoving Steve’s completely off his ass. He shoved his boxers down without ceremony as well and then Rumlow’s cock was hot and hard against Steve’s skin. Steve whined in want.

“You want it just like this?” Rumlow punctuated his words by grinding into Steve’s ass. “That what you want?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Steve ground out, arching his back and reaching a hand around to spread himself, not caring how wanton he looked and sounded. He just needed to get fucked. 

That was apparently all Rumlow had needed as he took that chance to shove a finger into Steve with no gentleness. It burned and made Steve moan and it felt amazing the way that Rumlow had pushed into him.

"You want it to hurt? You want me raw just like this?" Rumlow let another finger push at Steve's hole and as much as Steve wanted to be filled right then, as much as he wanted that edge of pain, he shook his head before he could think about it, and then Rumlow was pulling his hand away from Steve's hole. He shoved two fingers into Steve's mouth and Steve felt his eyes fluttering shut at the rough treatment. He sucked on Rumlow's fingers, letting himself gag on them when Rumlow pushed them further in. Rumlow's cock was hard and hot against Steve's ass, and it didn't matter that Rumlow'd stopped jerking Steve off, Steve felt amazing. Rumlow kept muttering into Steve's ear about how good he looked like that and how he was a slut and it just made Steve’s blood zing in his veins. Rumlow yanked his fingers from Steve's mouth and Steve gasped when he did, the gasp turning into another wanton moan when they were pushed into his ass, Steve's own wads of salvia slicking the way better. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough by a long shot in a normal time but right then it was perfect, and Steve even let himself say so. Rumlow thrust his fingers in and out of Steve twice more before pulling out and then the blunt head of his cock was there.

Rumlow pushed in and Steve keened at how amazing it felt right then. He wrapped one of his own hands around his cock and thrust into it as Rumlow started to move in him, clearly chasing his own orgasm; Steve was fine with that. That's what this was, the two of them only half undressed and slammed against the wall of the Quinjet after everyone had left. All this was about was chasing that release and Steve groaned with every thrust of Rumlow's hips and every stroke of his own hand. Rumlow held Steve's hips with near-bruising strength and it hurt so perfectly. The sound of their breath being punched out of them as they fucked surrounded them and Rumlow didn't even have the wherewithal to talk the same shit he had been earlier; he was just grunting. Steve was too, a high whine coming out of him with every breath and he jacked himself harder and faster, working himself to a frenzy while his hole was being used. The heat of it and the absolute filth of it made Steve unable to think straight, just concentrating on the way his balls were tightening and his belly was coiling as he worked himself over.

"Oh fuck," dropped from his lips and he arched his back, thrusting his ass out farther into Rumlow, and with one twist of his wrist over the head of his cock, Steve was coming, spunk spilling over his hand and onto the wall where he was still pressed. He felt Rumlow shoving into him once more, deep, and he heard the man's drawn-out groan, and then he felt the warmth of come in his hole.

He tried to catch his breath and hissed when Rumlow pulled out of him. Steve took a few gulps of air before he spoke.

"You got a mouth on you," Steve told him, hiking up his pants.

"Heat of the moment," Rumlow breathed out. He was tucking himself back into his pants. "I'd say sorry but..."

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "Heat of the moment." Steve just looked at Rumlow for a moment, taking in the sweat on his brow and the half-smile that was almost ugly it seemed so self-satisfied. He let out a long breath; it hadn't felt awkward with anyone else. "Thanks."

Rumlow laughed, just a quiet breath of one. "Yeah, always ready to serve." And somehow that dispelled whatever was in the air, and Steve could smirk too.

"Debriefing at 2100," Steve reminded him and got a nod in return. Steve knew he'd have just enough time to clean himself up and then maybe he'd be able to act like he hadn't let Brock Rumlow call him a slut while they debriefed about the mission. He still had to be the Captain. 

***

“It was actually easy not to think about it too much. Easy to fall back into the missions and into life.”

Natasha shrugs and steals another slice of salami from the pile. “Good to know that even if he was a piece of shit Nazi, he wasn’t an asshole about having had sex with you.”

Steve snorts out a laugh because the situation shouldn’t be funny, but it has to be. “I think him knowing I actually could have kicked his ass if needed helped.”

“That does seem to help with a lot of people,” she agrees. “But tell me about Sam. He couldn’t be an asshole even if he tried.”

“What are you talking about, Sam’s an asshole to me all the time,” Steve protests and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“That seems to be how you two flirt, now that I know that’s what it is.”

Steve grins, caught, and he starts to tell her.


	5. Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Sam go on a date and have opinions about mac and cheese and beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you jumped here for the Sam/Steve smut, please note that the *** indicates a jump back to the frame narrative of Steve and Natasha talking.

“You could do whatever you want to do,” Sam told him. He looked hopeful, and it made Steve feel that way too. That optimism was cut short by what Sam said next: “What makes you happy?”

It hit him hard. “I don’t know,” was all he could say after a moment. He didn’t want to keep Sam waiting for an answer and there wasn’t a quick one to be had. He hadn’t had an answer to what made him happy since he’d woken up 70 years in the future. But there had been moments.

He thought about the way he hadn’t had to think with Maria Hill, the way it’d been nice to simply feel her and the way they’d smiled at each other. He thought about the way he and Tony had forgotten whatever baggage existed between the two of them and just touched each other to make each other feel good. He had felt good in those moments, completely forgetting the tragedy that had happened to him; feeling that connection, physically if nothing else, to another human being, had made him happy.

“I think taking you to dinner would make me happy,” Steve said before he could second guess himself. Sam’s face morphed into shock. Pleased shock, but shock nonetheless. His eyes sparkled the same way they had that first day they talked to each other and Steve’d teased him about running.

“Oh, it’s like that?” Sam said, echoing that previous conversation. He was grinning outright, and Steve couldn’t help but return the look. 

“You free tonight?”

“Free to go to dinner with you? Yeah, definitely.” Steve noticed the way Sam’s eyes glanced over his body, and he wanted to preen a little. It may have been a few years since he'd woken up in a world where looking at a man wouldn’t get you decked in the face, but it was still a new enough experience for him that he liked the attention. This felt normal, and Steve liked that.

“I’ll pick you up around 6, then?”

Sam’s grin was absolutely contagious and when Steve left, it was that image that put a little more spring in his step than had normally been there.

***

“Oh, so you went on an actual date with Wilson?” Natasha asks, interrupting Steve’s story. Steve nods and Natasha grins wide. “I almost feel jealous. I never got dinner with Steve Rogers.”

The way her eyes sparkle, Steve knows she’s teasing him and he gives her a little shove.

“We eat together all the time. We’re eating together right now.” He shoves a piece of salami in his mouth just to prove his point. “Do you wanna hear about it or not?”

Her eyes sparkle still and Steve smiles and goes on.

***

Steve showed up on his motorcycle and he saw Sam grin a little before scoffing.

"Oh, now you got a motorcycle? No souped-up corvette with a hot redhead?"

"Oh, should I be hooking you up with Natasha instead?" Steve smarted back before thinking about it. Sam grinned at him even wider, and Steve couldn't help but grin back.

"Naw," Sam started. "Pretty good-looking blonde's here on his bike to take me to dinner. Can't really complain."

Steve felt his cheeks flush a little and he handed Sam a helmet. Sam stared at him.

"It’s safe."

"You wearing a helmet?"

"No, but--"

"I don't need the helmet, man. I think I'll be okay. Just remember you got a breakable human on the back here, huh?"

Steve shrugged and tossed the helmet back in his cargo bag he'd gotten out specifically for the occasion.

"So, where to?" Sam asked, coming to stand near Steve and the bike. Steve shrugged. "You got anything on that list of yours you're dying to try right now?"

"People keep telling me to try Thai food, but everyone was pretty gung-ho about sushi, and it wasn't much to me. With all this new-fangled technology you got, you can't even cook fish now? We used to boil everything, but that worked for fish."

Sam laughed. "Go somewhere in the Midwest; I hear fish boils are a whole thing."

"Good to know," Steve told him.

"How about I take you to this place I like that does a little bit of everything? Different styles, different drinks, hell of a beer list."

"You need to have a special beer list now to be a good restaurant?"

"Whole lot more than Miller out there now, man."

"I was a Schlitz guy," Steve told him. Sam rolled his eyes and it made Steve smile at him. It felt so damn easy just to joke with him even though they'd met not even two days ago. It was nice to feel that way after the mission on the Lemurian star and the way he'd have to talk to Fury.

"It's on 31st and Monument," Sam tells him. "I can tell you where to turn unless you feel like letting me drive this thing." There was a hopeful note in his voice, and Steve found that he even liked that. There was no way he was letting Sam drive his bike, but he liked that he wanted to and didn’t seem afraid.

"Definitely not. Steer the way." He slung his leg over the seat and Sam followed suit and wasn't afraid to grab onto the leather of Steve's jacket to hold on. He steered Steve to the restaurant with tugs at the material and it took all of 10 minutes to get there.

"You drive like a grandma, Rogers."

"Hey, you told me to remember there was a breakable human on back!" Steve protested, but Sam's eyes glittered at him, and Steve just shook his head.

The two of them went into the restaurant, Sam leading and holding the door open for Steve. The restaurant looked relaxed, dark wood tables and a bar at the center, framed black and white photographs of men with motorcycles and cars and people laughing around tables full of drinks littering the walls. It felt comfortable.

“It’s a local chain,” Sam said as they sat down. “Maybe three in the DC area? Nothing fancy, but good food. They make a mac and cheese that’s almost as good as my mom’s.” Steve couldn’t help but make a face, and Sam raised an eyebrow. “You got something against mac and cheese?”

Steve shook his head. “Only that we ate a lot of it. It was cheap and quick. Meat wasn’t. Kraft really knew what they were doing.”

Sam looked horrified. “Not that boxed nonsense, white boy. This is real macaroni and cheese.” When Steve still looked skeptical, he went on. “We’ll order one so you can taste it and get some culture.”

Steve laughed at that and Sam grinned back at him. 

"I mean, if you wanna talk about culture, I can tell you all about Paris. Or Italy. I've seen things."

Sam rolled his eyes and had a smile flirting on his lips. "You want me to tell you about seeing Jerusalem then? We can trade stories all day, but we both know we'll be pretending we weren’t trying to shoot guys while we were in these great European cities of old and all. It's not like you were seeing the Louvre trying to fight Nazis."

Steve chuckled, and he liked that Sam saw right through him and gave as good as he got. Most guys would have tried to be polite about it, but Sam Wilson clearly had Steve Rogers' number. It was refreshing, and Steve felt a spark ignite in him when he and Sam met eyes across the table.

"Nothing was even in the Lourve then; they moved it all, but yeah, you’re right,” Steve said after a moment of getting lost in Sam’s pretty brown eyes and his wide smile. "So, tell me what American culture is in 2014. Besides getting lapped on runs and refusing safety precautions."

Sam laughed and it was a great sound.

"Well, for a lot of white boys like yourself, part of the culture is ordering a beer you don't think anyone but you has ever heard of or understood."

Steve blinked at him. "What?"

Sam's smile stayed steady as he went on. "It's not a joke. Beer has changed a lot since back in your day."

"I can't just order a beer and have them bring me whatever they've got?"

Sam laughed outright at that and shook his head. Steve had seen the liquor aisle in the grocery store, but he hadn't paid much attention since it wouldn't have any effect on him. He’d really only ever drank with Bucky before, just to keep him company since before the serum he would get drunk so fast. After the serum, the only time he tried to drink had been to numb the pain of Bucky having fallen, and well, at that point the taste wouldn't have mattered.

"You mind if I order a drink for you in that case?" Sam asked, keeping Steve from tumbling too far down memory lane into despair. Steve shook his head. 

"I like that you asked. Before the serum, if a guy had taken me out, he would have assumed it was fine."

Sam nodded his head a little, understanding. "Yeah, man. Lot’s changed since then." He took a minute to let his eyes scan the menu and Steve pretended to do the same, but he was watching Sam's calculated movements and the way he chose his words.

"That a thing that happened a lot before? A guy taking you out? Thinking he was in charge?"

The questions were loaded, not to trap Steve into anything, but to know more than what they asked, and that was easy for Steve to recognize. He wasn't mad about it; in fact, it felt a lot like home, asking a guy a question without asking a guy the question.

"Nah," Steve shook his head. "Not too often. And I only went out with a guy if he knew how I'd respond to that kind of behavior." He'd only gone out with Bucky and one other man, a brunet by the name of Fredrick who was in his life drawing class, and that was it. And Peggy if she were a part of this discussion. "But this is a brave new world, right?"

Sam gave him a nod, and the waitress was approaching their table before he could say anything.

“Can I get you guys anything to drink other than water?” the waitress, whose nametag read Gina, said. She set down the two ice waters that had been in her hands as she did. 

“Yeah, I’d like the Corruption and he’ll have the Brau Pils.” If Gina was shocked by Sam ordering for both of them, she didn’t show it; she smiled and nodded and headed off.

“Should I be worried I’m about to get payback for lapping you?” Steve asked after taking a sip of his water. Sam smiled at him and shook his head.

“You deserve it, though.” Steve laughed and it was easy to fall into conversation from there. Their waitress brought their beers and didn’t seem to mind when they weren’t ready to order because their conversation had gotten in the way of them even looking at the menus. Steve drank his beer and tried Sam’s and made a face at the bitterness that made Sam laugh outright. They ordered mac and cheese and fried pickles and two different burgers and the food was good, but the conversation and fun Steve was having with Sam were even better. He didn’t want it to end. 

But it had to eventually; they at least had to leave the restaurant. It wasn’t quite closing time and the staff wasn’t cleaning up, but people were clearing out and Steve could feel that they would have to leave or be asked to within the next fifteen minutes, so he slid his credit card (one that had an unfathomable limit that had made him blanch when he learned it) into the check despite Sam’s protests to split it before he got ready to bring Sam back to his place.

The ride back to Sam’s was entirely too short, and Steve found himself lingering as he parked his bike and walked Sam back up to his steps. Their conversation had slowed but the atmosphere between the two of them felt the same, easy, but pregnant with some unspoken energy.

“Thank you, Sam,” Steve said when they’d gotten to Sam’s door. “I really had a nice time. Even though I don’t understand why anyone would want to drink an IPA.” Sam laughed, open and free and true, and Steve felt something in his chest flutter.

The way Sam smiled just lit him up. It was everything his laugh was and it reached his pretty brown eyes and Steve just wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him bad, so he leaned forward just slightly and wondered if Sam would pull away or let it happen. Steve had no intention of anything else happening, not that he’d be opposed, but he'd had such a good time being out with Sam that he couldn't help but want to end the night with a kiss. He couldn't help but feel nervous that he’d overstepped though, but then he felt the shift in the air that told him Sam hadn't pulled away but had leaned forward. Steve leaned forward more and closed the gap between the two of them and pressed a soft kiss to Sam's lips. It started chaste and warm but it turned deeper, neither of them seeming to want to let it end. Sam's tongue teased at the seam of Steve's lips and Steve parted his mouth to let him in, and then the kiss was even deeper than it had been. Steve's arms came up to Sam's waist and he pulled him closer so they were practically flush with each other. Sam's arms wrapped around Steve too, and it was when Steve could feel his blood starting to rush south that he pulled back, recognizing that they were necking on Sam’s porch like they were teenagers. Like they were teenagers of different genders and the same race.

Sam must have seen something in Steve's face because he gave a reassuring half-grin before he said anything, taking half a step back to give Steve some space.

"You freaking out there?"

Steve took a deep breath and tried to say something that wouldn't sound ridiculous or awful.

"Not used to being able to do that in public," he settled on saying, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck and rubbing sheepishly. Sam laughed.

"Didn't realize my stoop was all that public, but I get it. The ‘I'm another man’ thing, or the ‘I'm black’ thing? I know neither was exactly alright back in the day."

Then it was Steve's turn to laugh a little, because how did this man he'd just met a few days ago already know exactly what he had been concerned with? Steve was already so glad they'd met.

"Little of both."

"Well, then, come on inside, Steve," Sam offered, slipping his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Steve hesitated a moment as Sam opened the door a crack. Sam looked back and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I don't want to push you into anything--"

Sam cut him off with a bark of laughter. "Man, I am a grown-ass man. You might be a superhero and all, but come on. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage or anything. Just inviting you in if you want a nightcap or to make-out a little more. Your virtue is safe with me."

Steve snorted, but that got him to follow Sam into his place. It was nice, with black and white photos on the walls and pictures of family and homey little touches that Steve's apartment did not have. It felt cozy. He watched Sam toss his keys onto a ring on a wooden shelf and then shrug his jacket off and hang it up right next to them. He made a gesture for Steve to follow suit, so Steve slipped his leather jacket off too.

“You want another beer?” Sam asked.

“If I say no, will it seem too easy?” Steve responded and it made Sam laugh. “I’ll have one if you want another.”

“It’ll give us an excuse to sit on the couch and make out while some movie plays on the TV, right? And it’ll give you an excuse for an out,” Sam joked back and Steve liked this guy. He liked him a lot, and there was some part of him that pulled back at that, and then Steve just had to kiss him to keep from thinking about it. He reached out to grab Sam’s hand and dragged him into his space.

“Forget an excuse,” Steve said. He kissed Sam again, hard and desperate and not the gentle exploration that the kiss outside had started as. This was messy and hot and Steve wanted to taste every part of Sam, starting with every nook and cranny of his mouth, and he wanted to drink in the near-silent sounds of pleasure Sam was giving him in response. Steve’s arms wrapped around Sam’s waist and his hands dropped to his ass and he kept kissing him. Steve squeezed at Sam’s ass and groaned into Sam’s mouth at the feel and at the way it made Sam’s hips hitch forward. The heat of kissing and touching went to Steve’s head and sent his blood flushing his chest and face and filling his cock. Sam had to feel that just as much as Steve could feel Sam’s body reacting. Steve’s pulse rushed as he nipped at Sam’s bottom lip.

Sam pulled back from the kiss out of breath. Steve felt that way too, especially when he could see how wide Sam's pupils were blown and how he couldn't seem to really keep his eyes off of Steve's lips. "I know you said you weren't trying to push me into anything, and that goes both ways but—"

Steve cut Sam off with another kiss. He couldn't stop himself. The kissing was messy and hot again and Steve didn't want to stop at all. But they broke apart.

“Take me to bed, Staff Sargent Wilson,” Steve breathed. Sam took a hand from where it had curled around Steve’s bicep earlier and gave him a sloppy mock salute. That hand found Steve’s and started pulling him toward the hallway where Steve assumed there was a bedroom. The walls were blue and the bed was made but Steve barely noticed anything about it because he couldn’t look away from Sam, from where his forearm was taut and the muscles stood out or where the smile played at his lips in profile.

Sam’s smile was even more arresting when he turned once they were in the bedroom fully. Steve was staring at that smile and the way it reached Sam’s eyes as he backed him up to the bed. Sam startled when his legs hit the bed, but Steve caught him behind the back. He kissed him then, off-balance and precarious, but he held them upright. His hands came to Sam’s shirt and rucked it up until Sam maneuvered to take it off. Steve’s hands roamed the warm smooth skin of his back feeling the muscles there, but he didn’t move his mouth from Sam’s. He brought his hands to his own shirt and got it off so they were chest to chest as they kissed. Sam was the one to get his hand on Steve’s fly button and pop it open so Steve could step out so he was in his boxers, and Steve went after Sam’s jean button too. Steve felt dizzy with how nice he felt but he needed more. He couldn’t help but push Sam down onto the bed, catching him gently before he blanketed him with his body for a moment. He pulled Sam so they were both on their sides and he kept kissing him.

Sam was gentle. His hands were gentle and his mouth was gentle and his eyes were gentle. He let Steve take his time and that felt amazing. With Tony and Rumlow, everything had felt quick, but this wasn't like either of those. This felt like Sam just wanted Steve to have a good time, and it felt like he was having a good time letting him. It made Steve want to keep smiling and keep kissing him, so he did, letting his hands stop Sam's in their tracks of tracing his muscles on his torso. He leaned forward and brought their mouths together in a kiss that was much less gentle than everything else seemed. Steve liked Sam. He liked doing this with Sam and he wanted Sam to know just how much. He kissed Sam and moved his hands so their fingers were intertwined and he kept that up until he felt dizzy.

"Whoa," Sam said, sounding a little dazed.

"I like this," Steve said. He didn't care if maybe he wasn't supposed to. Sam smiled and he looked like he was going to say something teasing, so Steve stopped him. "This is," he searched for a word that would explain and all he came up with was "nice."

"I'm glad, Steve. Is this all you want to do?" Sam's eyes raked down their bodies where they were still both wearing their boxers. They'd been taking their time, but both of them were hard; their bodies were ready to speed things up and take it a little further.

Steve grinned then. "Oh, not a chance. This is nice, but I want to fuck, if you want to."

"Do I want to fuck Steve Rogers, Captain America?" Sam asked with his teeth shining in the half-light filtering through the window. He moved so that Steve would drop his hands and then brought his arms to wrap around Steve. One hand snaked down to Steve’s ass and he pulled him close so their cocks brushed, sending a ripple of pleasure through Steve's body. "Hell, yeah."

Steve kissed Sam again, this time messy and rough, and he let his own hands explore. Sam was strong and muscled and he felt amazing under Steve's hands. He felt amazing under Steve's mouth as he let it explore further too. Sam had stubble growing on his jawline that rasped against Steve's lips as he teased there before going lower to his neck and nipping at the tendon standing out there. He had bristling hair on his chest where Steve licked at his pectorals before concentrating on his nipples one after the other. Sam sighed in pleasure and Steve smiled against his skin. He kissed down his abs and he kept scooting down the bed until he was at the waistline of Sam's boxers and he looked up with a question in his eyes. Sam nodded and Steve inched the boxers off his hips until his cock sprung free.

Sam lifted his hips so Steve could take the shorts all the way off and throw them halfway across the room. If Sam wanted to say anything about it, Steve didn’t let him, because he wanted to get his mouth on Sam. He took the head of Sam’s cock into his mouth and gave it a teasing suck and got a groan in response. He pulled off with a grin.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so let me know if my technique’s not up to snuff,” he joked.

Sam gave a slightly pained laugh, “Oh, yeah, I’m sure I’ll have complaints. There’ll be a performance review after—oh, shit!”

Sam’s response turned into a shout when Steve took him as deep into his mouth as he could. He hollowed his cheeks around Sam, savoring the weight and feel of him in his mouth as he sucked. His hands rested on Sam’s hips, but he didn’t stop the little movements they were making, fucking Sam’s cock deeper into his mouth. Steve let him, opened his throat for him until his nose was pressed against Sam’s groin, buried in the coarse hair there. Sam’s hands were fisted in Steve’s hair and Steve lost himself in the feeling of it all—the slight pull on his scalp, the heat of Sam’s body, the fullness of Sam’s cock in his mouth, the sound of Sam’s quiet grunts and his heavy breaths. He lost himself in the way he could make Sam feel good.

“Shit, Steve,” Sam hissed and pulled at his hair. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.” Steve took that moment to pull off, spit clinging to his bottom lip. He dipped his head and ran that bottom lip over the crown of Sam’s dick.

“Isn’t that the point?” Steve moved to resume the blow job but Sam stopped him. Steve looked up at him.

“This is great, but I thought you said something about fucking? You didn’t change your mind, did you?“

Steve didn’t answer verbally, just with a lunging kiss that got Sam to laugh again. The laugh was swallowed by the kiss, and it turned into a groan when Steve bucked his hips and ground into Sam. Steve reached down and wrapped his hand around both of them as much as he could and stroked and kept kissing Sam until Sam pulled away to bite at Steve’s earlobe and speak.

“You gotta let me get a condom if you want to do anything else.” Steve practically flung himself off Sam and onto his side, and Sam grinned at him before he reached into the drawer of his nightstand and came away with a bottle of lube and a condom. “You got a preference?”

Steve shook his head. “Either way has always been fine by me. What do you want?”

Sam rolled so he was on his side, an elbow propping him up. “I would understand if you wanted at this ass, but do you care if I top?”

Steve reached out and took the condom from Sam and he rolled it onto him. He took the lube from Sam’s hand and squirted it onto his own fingers before reaching back to find his hole.

He groaned but tried to smirk at Sam as he said “No, I don’t care.” Sam shook his head and then he was kissing Steve. Steve worked one finger into himself and groaned into Sam’s kiss. Sam’s hands roamed over Steve’s chest, brushing his nipples and then tracing his abs before they settled at his hips. Steve pushed a second finger inside himself and grunted.

“Damn, that looks pretty,” Sam told him before he nipped at his mouth. He let one hand trail downward, giving Steve’s hard cock a few slow strokes that had Steve’s breath quickening and then moving in to join Steve’s own fingers. Steve’s hand moved so his fingers were just dipping into his hole and Sam maneuvered so he could replace them with his own fingers. “Let me in, sweetheart.”

Steve hummed in pleasure at the sweet-talk and the way Sam’s fingers felt inside of his hole. Sam moved his fingers in and out in a slow, teasing pace, and Steve brought one hand to Sam’s face so he could pull him down into a kiss and let his other hand wrap around his own cock. Sam pulled away from the kiss to look down at Steve’s movement and he smiled.

“Shouldn’t that be my job?” He punctuated the question with a thrust of his fingers that found Steve’s prostate and made him groan and his hips twitch.

Steve rolled his hips to encourage the movement and he gripped at the back of Sam’s neck, earning a low sound of pleasure. “Your job is to fuck me.” Steve craned up and gave Sam a biting kiss. “I’m ready. I don’t need that much prep, come on.”

Sam nodded and he eased his fingers out of Steve. “You’re awfully pushy,” he teased, but he leaned down and kissed Steve again, and he wrapped one hand around the head of Steve’s cock and played there. Steve was almost whining at the feel of that alone when Sam moved to push the blunt head of his hard cock into him. The sound of pleasure that came out of Steve was long and low while Sam worked himself inside until he bottomed out. Steve reached both hands up to splay across Sam’s face and pull him down for a kiss that left them both breathless before either of them moved their hips.

“Move, Sam,” Steve said when the kiss broke and Sam did. He rocked his hips forward into Steve, back and forth at a steady pace that had Steve moving to meet the rhythm. They were both chasing their own desire and the other’s and it made them speed up, pumping their hips against each other’s movements.

“Shit, Steve,” Sam hissed, and Steve just nodded and he grabbed at Sam’s ass, urging him even deeper inside. He dug his fingernails into the meat of Sam’s ass and his teeth found Sam’s earlobe and he rocked upward to meet Sam’s thrusts. Sam’s hand was still wrapped around Steve’s dick, but it was barely moving so Steve brought a hand to join it. He intertwined his fingers with Sam’s and started to pump his cock using the precum that was leaking from his tip to slick his way. The rhythm matched up with the way Sam was fucking into him after a few stroked, and it was enough to make Steve throw his head back and rock his hips up harder. He clenched his inner muscles around Sam and Sam moaned and renewed his thrusting. Steve shifted on his back, and suddenly the angle was different and Sam’s cock was hitting Steve’s prostate with every thrust and it had Steve groaning nonstop.

“Keep going. Oh, god, keep going, I’m almost there. Please,” he whined and kept stripping his cock. He was squeezing Sam’s hand too hard but he didn’t care; he needed to come, and the way they were moving, with Sam's hand on Steve’s cock and Sam’s dick in Steve’s ass hitting his spot exactly right, was enough to make Steve forget everything else except his impending orgasm. He writhed and jerked himself until he felt his muscles tightening and then he was coming without warning. He cried out and he felt Sam still and heard him moan.

Sam collapsed on top of him while Steve was still riding the aftershocks and was pressing kisses to Steve’s chest and neck. Steve peppered Sam’s face with small kisses in return until Sam eased himself out of Steve’s ass with a quiet hiss and settled onto his back.

“Damn.”

“Mmmhmm,” Steve agreed. The two of them laid there and stared at the ceiling for a moment before Sam spoke up while he was getting the condom off of himself and tossing it away. He handed Steve a few tissues when he settled himself back down into the bed.

“I’d offer you round two, but I think I’ve gotta take a nap first.”

Steve smiled and turned onto his side. “That’s fine.” He watched Sam’s brow smooth out from where it had been scrunched, then went on. “This was a perfect date, you know.”

Sam grinned and turned his head to Steve. “I know. I’m great at this.”

Steve laughed and shook his head before he gave Sam a quick kiss. He leaned down to fix the blankets so the two of them could get under them and it was barely ten minutes before Sam seemed sound asleep. It was half an hour before Steve made himself get up and drive back to his apartment, hoping he would see Sam again and that Sam’d understand why he left the note explaining his absence instead of staying for breakfast. Unfortunately, there had been someone waiting for Steve at home. 

***

“You think if all that with SHIELD and Hydra hadn’t happened, something more would have with Sam?” Natasha asks him. She’s turned onto her stomach and resting her chin on her folded hands while he’s got his back resting against the headboard. Her elbow feels pointy against his thigh but the contact is nice. He shrugs. 

“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter now. Hydra did happen. And I’ve got to find Bucky. That’s what matters.”

“I know.” Natasha gives him a smile then and digs into his thigh playfully. “Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun too.”

Steve reaches out a hand and tugs at a lock of her hair that’s fallen in her eyes before he lets his thumb brush against the curve of her lip. He wears a smirk that might as well be a smile as he does. 

“Obviously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opinions expressed by Steve Rogers about IPAs do NOT reflect the opinions of the author in any way shape or form.


	6. Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha work off energy while on the hunt for Bucky.

The trail had been lukewarm at least for six months and was getting colder every day. It was driving Steve crazy. He just wanted to find Bucky, and he felt terrible he’d dragged his friends into this mission. Sam was back home keeping an ear to the ground and taking care of the responsibilities he had as a real person; Steve didn’t begrudge him that, not at all, so now it was just him and Natasha, and that meant that whatever buffer Sam acted as for the two of them was gone. Steve thought Natasha might be his best friend in this century, sure, but sometimes it also felt like she was his handler. Other times it felt like she was an insubordinate soldier and even though the accommodations were much better than they had been during the war, the behavior still grated on him, maybe even worse now.

“I do know what I’m doing, Natasha,” he snapped at her as she checked over the same exact files he’d just been staring at and poring over for days now. She just arched an eyebrow at him, and it deflated him completely to have her not respond. “Sorry.”

She read through the file a little bit longer and Steve was about to turn to something else and forget his outburst when she spoke up. “I know you know what you’re doing, Steve. But, so do I.”

“I know,” he told her. He sighed and let his head fall into his hands for a moment. “And I know this is more your area, so I’m sorry. Spy-craft was never my strong suit. It’s just...I’m going crazy here. I need something to hit.”

Natasha let out a laugh, and it made Steve give her a half-hearted glare. She finished looking over the file again before she threw it down onto the table with her own quiet sigh of disgust.

“I’m not exactly having the time of my life here, either, you know.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve told her again. “I’m taking you from your life and—”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s driving me just as crazy as you. I need actionable intel. I need a trail to follow the same way you need something to hit. And doing this without all my usual covers and contacts? It’s even worse.” She leaned back in her chair and let her head tip back. “I need something to do. We’ve got nothing.”

“Wanna spar?” Steve finally asked, knowing his complete lack of enthusiasm for the idea showed in his voice. Natasha snorted at the idea. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Steve looked up at the sound of Natasha dropping her feet from the table. She was staring at him.

“You wanna have sex?”

All Steve could do was goggle at her for a moment. “What?”

Natasha shrugged and rolled her shoulders after that. “We’re both going stir crazy and have too much energy to sit here, and this room’s—hell, nowhere in this house is—not really equipped for us to fight,” she said gesturing around. “But we could probably burn off that energy fucking. It could be fun.”

Steve laughed.

“Or not. Just an idea.” Natasha’s gaze had left him, and she was the picture of casual as she dug out her phone from her pocket. Steve looked at her and could see the undercurrent of energy thrumming off her though, probably the same sort of current that was crackling around him. They would both lose it if they kept going like this.

“Yeah, alright,” he said after a minute. Natasha let shock register on her face, and then Steve laughed again. “What? You suggested it without thinking I’d say okay?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“If it was a joke—”

“No, no,” Natasha cut him off. She set her phone on the table on top of the file. “I just didn’t know Captain America would be so cavalier about casual sex.”

“Well, Steve Rogers is,” he shrugged. Natasha smiled at him, and it was a genuine one. 

Her smile never left her face as she stood up and asked, "You sure about that?"

Steve nodded and let a smile start to form on his face. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. He tried to throw an arm over the back of the chair for a casual demeanor but Natasha just laughed at him.

"Okay, Steve, I believe you; you don't have to put on a show about it."

"I just want you to know that I can do casual. Very easily."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow at that, hearing what he wasn't saying. He just shook his head. It wasn't the time to tell her about anyone else, not when she was standing there, starting to walk towards him with intent. She paused a foot in front of him and he bent his legs back up and motioned her towards him. Playing at confident with Natasha was almost the same as actually feeling confident, but his heart was beating against his rib cage like it hadn't in a long time. She came to stand in the vee of his legs and she smirked down at him. Steve couldn't help but gaze up at her, trying to meet her eyes. She kept her arms at her sides, clearly waiting for him to make more of a move and his tentativeness came through in his movements as he brought his hands to her slender waist. She was so much smaller than she seemed; he felt like he might be able to wrap his hands around her completely, but god, she was muscled too. His hands spanned so much of her that he felt the start of the flare of her hips even at the middle of her waist. That made his touch less tentative as he let his fingers skim down her figure. Her hands came up to his shoulders before sliding to behind his neck and squeezing a little. It felt good against his tense muscles, and Steve breathed out enough that she had to know that. 

“You sure you can do casual?” she asked one more time, her voice quieter, making the smokiness of it come out even more. _No wonder men fell at her feet_ , Steve thought as he watched her green eyes trail from his eyes to his lips. He followed her trajectory and looked at her mouth too and he was nodding before he thought better of it and then guiding her to lean down so he could kiss her.

It wasn’t anything like the kiss they’d shared on the run. Steve felt just as timid at first, but when Natasha opened her mouth the slightest bit, he couldn’t help but tighten his grip around her waist and pull her closer to him, so close that she hitched one of her legs over his. He dropped a hand from her waist to her ass and kept kissing her, his tongue delving into her mouth so they could tease at each other and pull pleasure from the kiss. He gripped at her upper thigh and pulled and she was fully on his lap, warm and soft despite her muscles, and Steve’s hips hitched under her at the contact.

She pulled away from the kiss first and searched his face, but all he did in response was pull her closer to him so she could feel exactly how sure he was about doing this. She smirked at him and he spoke up.

“You can still back out, you know. I won’t be upset, I swear. If you were just messing with me—”

“Shut up, Steve,” she said with a laugh in her voice. She extricated herself from his lap, and Steve tried not to whine at the loss, but she was smiling at him as she stood up, and her hands came to her shirt hem. 

He'd known Natasha was beautiful, of course he did; he had eyes and it was half of how she was so good at her job. Beautiful women could charm you and disarm you without even trying, and they'd always be underestimated, no matter what time tried to show the men of the world. Steve had known that forever. He’d know, but still, when she stripped her shirt over her head, Steve felt his mouth go a little dry. Her bra was simple, black and satiny and no-fuss, but she was still an absolute sight to see.

"Really? You're going to gape?"

"I'm not gaping,” Steve protested. "I'm appreciating. Is that okay?"

They smiled at each other. Steve was turned on, but he also felt like this was somehow both easy and strange.

"Sure. Get your shirt off," Natasha told him. He gave her a half-hearted glare but did as she told him and tossed the garment to the chair to the side of his room. He felt her eyes on him as though they were her hands. He tingled where she looked.

"Now I'm appreciating. You really are something, Steve." He blushed at the compliment and couldn't help it. He saw that it made her smile. She crooked a finger at him, and he stood and took the few steps toward her that he needed to in order to close the gap between them. Natasha tilted her head up and looked at him, studying his face, and he looked right back. She was so god damn beautiful, her lips full and her eyes green and deep and so steady. He leaned down to kiss her and she surged up to meet him, and this kiss was just as full of lust as the previous one had been. They kissed and they moved closer to the bed until Natasha kicked at his leg and yanked him onto the bed with her. They barely broke apart.

Steve pulled away from her mouth just to kiss down her neck and nose her bra straps down her arms to press kisses to her shoulders. She had freckles there that Steve had never noticed, and it hit him in the heart somehow. 

Natasha brought her hands down to her pants and undid them just to wriggle out of them and kick them somewhere onto the floor. Her underwear were as simple as her bra was, but it didn’t mean that Steve didn’t appreciate the sight of her hips filling out the black material. Her nimble fingers were working on his fly as he kept kissing her. He took his hands off her only long enough to push his pants down so the two of them were laying on the bed in just their underwear. He brought his hands back to her smooth stomach and then farther up to cup her breasts through her bra and let his thumbs tease her nipples to hardness so they showed through. He kept doing it as he kissed her and urged the two of them closer.

Natasha pushed Steve onto his back then and then slung her leg over Steve’s hips, and the heat between her thighs was so pleasant against Steve that he groaned. She smiled down at him in a teasing laugh, but when he bucked his hips up a little, her expression faltered out of pleasure too. Then he smirked up at her.

"Is this a competition?" she asked.

"Not if you don't make it one," Steve told her as his hands came to her tiny waist. She should have felt so delicate in his hands, but she didn't. She was so strong, and that turned him on like nothing else. She would be able to take whatever he gave her, and she'd probably demand more, and he wanted to see that. One of his hands slid from her waist to cup her ass and squeeze at her there and rock into her. Just grinding against each other lazily like that felt nice and seeing Natasha grin at him while she was just in her bra made him smile back. She reached behind herself and fiddled with her bra for a moment before she let it snap open, and she slid her arms from the straps and flung it away somewhere. Steve's eyes couldn't have been pulled away from her full breasts. She was stunning, and he wanted to get his mouth on her as soon as he could. He surged up to do just that, and he kissed her chest, peppering open mouth kisses and licks at each of her tits until he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked at the hard bud. He brought the hand that had still been on her waist to toy with the other one while pulling her closer to him by the grip on her ass. Natasha moaned almost silently as his tongue flicked out at her nipple and he pinched the other. He groaned around her and nipped, and her hands shot up from his shoulders to his head, and she tugged at his hair despite its shortness. She yanked his head back before he could switch sides, and she dove to kiss him deeply.

"God, Natasha," he moaned when he pulled back to take a breath. "You're beautiful."

"You don't need to flatter me, Steve," she told him before she ducked to nip at his earlobe and bring her mouth further down to kiss his neck and shoulders and lick his Adam’s apple.

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he just moved so that he could flip her onto her back and look at her hair fanned out against the bed. He took his time to kiss down her chest, licking at her nipples once more before moving lower and lower until he reached her pubic hair. He’d felt how wet she was before, but the smell of her arousal this close made him groan against her before his mouth was on her. His hands came to her thighs, and he pushed them apart so he could taste her.

It'd been a while since he’d done this, and he’d forgotten how much he loved it. He’d forgotten how good it felt to make a woman feel good like this; he hadn’t gotten a chance with Maria, too nervous he was going to screw something up, and he didn’t want to even think about the last time with Peggy because it was too painful, so he stopped thinking and let himself just move. He mouthed at Natasha’s sex, and with every slight twitch of her thighs or clutch of her fingers in his hair, he kept going. He licked at her entrance and teased her clit with his nose as he did and moaned into her when she groaned at it. He sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue against her and kept his face buried between her thighs while she bucked her hips against his mouth. He knew his own hips were rolling against the bed for friction, but he didn’t care how desperate he seemed. Making Natasha fall apart the way she was was everything right then.

He took one hand from around her thigh and let his fingers push into her cunt slowly, almost teasingly, and he crooked them up as he took her clit back into his mouth and suckled. Natasha’s nails dug sharply into his scalp, and her legs squeezed around him, and all Steve could feel was her surrounding him, all warmth and softness and slickness. He kept the same rhythm going until he heard Natasha’s cut off moan and felt her tighten and gush around his fingers in orgasm. His head rushed at the sound. He couldn’t help but keep licking at her until one of Natasha’s hands came to his hair and tugged.

“Get up here.”

He dropped kisses on her skin as he made his way back up the bed. Natasha’s tongue darted into his mouth to taste herself on him, and the way she sucked on his tongue made his hips rock forward on their own. He was losing himself in the kiss when Natasha did something lightning fast that had him on his back with her straddling his hips again, this time her bare sex wet against his straining cock. She leaned over him, and he moved up to suck at one of her tits where it was close to his mouth, and she hummed in pleasure. Steve could see out of the corner of his eye that she was grabbing a condom from the bedside drawer, having to move at least one gun and two knives to find it.

“You’re always prepared for anything, aren’t you?” he teased when she straightened up.

“That’s why I’m good at my job,” she told him. The smirk she had on her face widened at the way Steve sucked in a breath when she worked him out of his underwear and his hardness was suddenly pressed against her skin. She wasted no more time getting the condom open and on Steve. She rose up on her knees and wrapped a hand around Steve’s cock to position herself over it. She raised an eyebrow at him, and when he nodded, she sank down onto Steve, and the two of them groaned.

Natasha rocked herself back up and sank down onto him again with another groan, and Steve reached up to pull her down into a kiss again. His tongue teased into her mouth at the same pace she set fucking herself down onto him. The slow slide of her warmth around Steve had him gasping into their kisses. Natasha pulled away from the kiss and straightened up, keeping her hands on his shoulders. She didn’t stop rocking against him, working his cock to get her own pleasure. 

Steve knew he was staring but the way that Natasha’s breasts moved as she rolled her hips on top of him was mesmerizing. Her nipples were peaked and pink, and Steve wanted to get his mouth back on them and couldn't look away. His own movements were slow and steady, his body happy to let Natasha be in control. He matched her movements and let his hands come to her hips, and he smoothed the skin of her curves there. It made Natasha press a hand down into the middle of his chest and smirk down at him.

"You're not gonna break me, Steve," she told him, a laugh in her voice. He took his eyes off her chest.

"I know that."

Natasha's movements sped up, and she clenched down around him, making Steve suck in a breath. "Then act like it." She curled her fingers in to scratch at his chest, and it got a hiss out of him. Her smirk grew wider, and she threw her head back so her red hair cascaded over her shoulders where it'd gotten long enough to despite the slight curl in it. She was clearly toying with Steve, and she wanted him to know it, and that was enough for him.

Steve flipped them, getting Natasha onto her back again, and his hands moved from her hips to her wrists and pinned them above her head. Natasha was strong, she was, but she wasn't as strong as Steve, not like this. She pushed against his hold, and he smirked down at her when he tightened his grip. Natasha hissed but she thrust her hips up stutteringly against him.

"Come on," she egged him on, and he bent to capture her mouth in a filthy kiss as he drove into her. His hips bucked into the heat of her, and she moved to meet him. The languorous pace from before was completely gone. Steve fucked his hips forward, hard and brutal deep into Natasha, and every stroke pushed a breath out of her. He kept one hand encircling her wrists and keeping them pinned where they were above her head, but he brought his other hand to one of her thighs and he hitched it up even higher than it was. He turned his head and bit at her calf and forced her knee over his shoulder.

“Come on, Nat,” he told her, and she brought her other leg up so she was bent in half. “There you go,” Steve almost growled, and he drove his cock into her even harder. He grunted at the tightness of her and knew that if he kept this up, he was going to come sooner rather than later. He brought his unoccupied hand to Natasha’s clit and pressed his thumb against it, rubbing soft circles that didn’t match the pace of the way they were moving at all. He kept rubbing, and he leaned down to kiss her neck and nibble at her ears, and Natasha was moaning steadily. He took his hand from around her wrists, and she brought her hands to his back immediately. She dug her nails into the meat of his shoulders, and he thrust into her even harder, and the way she cried out at that had him reaching his peak.

“Nat, oh shit, Nat,” he breathed, and he shoved his hips forward deep into her as he was coming. He kept his fingers moving against Natasha’s clit through the haze of pleasure, and he felt her walls start to clench around him. She scratched her nails deeper into Steve’s back as she came, and the way she writhed under him sent another wave of orgasm over Steve, and he groaned into Natasha’s neck.

He was breathing heavily against her when she straightened her legs out and moved them from his shoulders, and she started to giggle. Steve raised himself up and looked at her with a question in his eyes. She shook her head.

“I’m not making fun of you, swear,” she told him, and Steve sighed and extricated himself from her, pulling out with a hiss and trying to clean himself up as much as he could. He sprawled back down and waited for Natasha to go on and explain.

“I’m just laughing because, I’ve gotta ask,” she started. She smiled at him when she turned. “Was that your first time doing that since 1945?”

***

"And that's it. You know all about who I've slept with in this century now," Steve finishes. He flops back onto his pillow again, suddenly exhausted in a way he hadn't been before. He had wanted to tell her, sure, but now that he has, he realizes exactly what it's all been. It's been fun. It has, and Steve likes to have fun, of course he does, but there's always going to be some part of him aching for more the same way there always was before. Before with Peggy and with Bucky, he'd been in love, and it had made everything sweeter. He cares deeply about his friends, about Sam and Natasha especially, but sleeping with them was nowhere near what sharing the intimacy he and Peggy or he and Bucky had. He wonders if he'll ever get that back. He tries not to think about it too much because finding Bucky and making sure he's safe is all that matters. He is trying so hard to come at this as unselfishly as possible. So, he just doesn't think about it. Or tries not to at least.

Natasha smiles at him, and Steve looks over at her. "What?"

"All that time I was trying to set you up on dates and you didn't need it."

Steve laughs. "That's what you got from that?" Natasha shrugs at him, and he laughs again. "Well, yeah, you didn't need to."

"I had just thought you were so tense because you needed to get laid." Natasha says it and Steve knows it's supposed to be a joke, and clearly, Natasha knows it's meant to be a joke, but somehow it comes out less funny than intended. Before he can respond, Natasha lays back down too. The sandwich fixings are long gone between the two of them. Natasha curls her head towards his shoulder and lays a hand on his chest. Steve looks down at her, and she returns his gaze and shakes her head at the unspoken question.

"I'm glad you've found fun in this world, Steve." He looks away from her then, her voice too soft and open. It sounds almost like pity and he can't take that from her. Not from Natasha. "I hope you find something else too though."

She takes one of his hands and presses a kiss to the back of it before settling back down. "Even if it would mean we don't have sex again."

That makes Steve burst into laughter, and suddenly his melancholy is gone. It’s hard not to roll over and kiss her again at that, and if that kiss turns into another and then another and then even more, neither of them seem to be mad about it.


	7. Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's never been casual with Steve and Bucky

It’s nearly a year after that when they finally find Bucky. Steve doesn't believe it at first, but Bucky's real, and he’s right in front of him, and he's grinning. "Hey, Stevie," he says and that's all it takes for tears to spring to Steve's eyes. He knows he looks ridiculous. He knows his face has gone red and blotchy the exact same way it always did when he was crying too hard to handle it when he was younger; the serum didn't change that enough. The only reason no one has seen that is that he had gotten enough tears out of his system before Peggy found him after Bucky fell. But now he can't stop it. He's crying, and Bucky steps into his space.

"Stop it, Rogers. It's okay. I'm here." And Bucky just keeps murmuring that into Steve’s hair as he holds him. It doesn't help. But, god, it does on some level. It feels like something that had been missing slots back into place in Steve’s soul. The very fiber of him feels different with Bucky here this close. It feels like everything.

"I missed you, Buck," Steve manages to choke out as he grasps at Bucky. He feels Bucky nod back and grasp at him too, and Steve has no idea how long the two of them stay there locked in an embrace.

But he knows that eventually, they move because they have to. As much as Steve would like to never let Bucky go, they have to separate and continue on. And so, he does, and he takes Bucky home and gets ready to reintroduce him to society as much as he has to with whatever it takes.

And it takes a lot. Bucky is skittish and snappish, and he doesn't trust anyone; he only trusts Steve when he can see him or when he can see how emotional Steve is. It takes time for Bucky to feel safe, and for him to feel normal. It takes a while before Steve thinks of him as the same as his old self. He would have taken Bucky any way he would have gotten him, but slowly, it seems like Bucky now is the same Bucky that shipped off in 1943 in so many ways.

He's so much like the Bucky of 1943 sometimes that it's impossible for Steve to tell him no to anything. So, when Bucky is practically bouncing out of his skin one night to the point where Steve can't take it, he finally cracks.

"What is it, Buck?"

Bucky sighs and turns his face to Steve, and Steve already knows whatever Bucky is about to ask is going to be a bad idea, but that he's going to go along with it because when has Steve Rogers never gone along with Bucky Barnes if Bucky Barnes was the one to have the bad idea? Never, that was when, and Steve knows that will never change.

"I'm dying in this place, Rogers; let's go out, huh?"

"How can you be dying in this place? You've got anything you could ever want. There's a robot that runs the place, for crying out loud!"

"I am not a robot, Captain Rogers, I am an artificial intelligence system. A robot has a body," Jarvis chimes in. There are times when Steve really regrets staying at the tower again, but it had been the most secure place for a while. At least while they were still figuring out what to do with Bucky. And it seemed the best compromise in a rebuilt SHIELD's eyes while they monitored Bucky. It hadn't been all roses. In fact, Steve had been certain that Tony was going to kill both of them at one point, but they'd worked through it. They stayed out of each other's hair.

Steve points vaguely around to encompass what Jarvis had just said. "See? It's like a dream for you, isn't it?"

"Me and Jarvis are old buddies now, but it doesn’t mean I don't need to get out. And I mean out. Not just to that weird little Thai place you like down the block."

"You didn't like Thai food?"

Bucky sighs and flops onto the couch next to Steve and lets his head fall onto the back of the couch before he turns a long-suffering look onto Steve. Steve smiles softly at him.

"Not the point."

Steve is the one to sigh then. "Alright, Buck, where do you want to go?"

"Out. What's dancing like this century?"

Steve laughs even as his eyes widen in horror. He has no idea what dancing is like in this century, and he'd hated it enough in the previous one to know he doesn't really want to find out. He'd watched enough TV and movies to know it would not be something he enjoyed. Bucky'd seen enough at that point that he should have known that too.

"If you want to go out dancing, take Natasha. I hated dancing then and I'm just as liable to hate it now. Maybe even more now," Steve tells him. There's a stab of disappointment that jolts through him as he says the words, but he knows it's unfair. Natasha has been nothing but a good friend during this whole thing, and hell, it wasn't like he hadn't slept with her too, but there's something about the way Bucky looks at her that makes Steve loathe to suggest they go dancing together.

"I don't wanna go dancing with Nat--"

"Really? She's just your type"

"She's everyone's type, Stevie, you seen that girl?" Bucky interrupts just as easily as Steve had. Steve can't even get a laugh out before Bucky goes on. "I wanna go out with you. I wanna take my best guy out."

And there's something about the way he says it, the way “my best guy" comes out of Bucky's mouth with no shame and no question, that has Steve's breath catching in his chest. It makes something start to well up in his eyes too, and Bucky must see it.

“What? What’d I say?”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s been a long time since someone called me that is all.”

“I call you Stevie damn near every other day,” Bucky points out and it makes Steve give a watery laugh and roll his eyes.

He clarifies, “I haven’t been anyone’s best guy in a long time.”

Bucky’s shaking his head, and his eyes are soft when he looks at Steve and answers him. “Rogers, you’re _the_ best guy. Who cares if no one in this century’s been smart enough to claim you?”

Steve stares back at Bucky, and he’s still so in love with this man. He’s been in love with him since he was 15 years old, and Steve doesn’t care one iota that Bucky’s changed; he’s still Bucky, and Steve will love him in every iteration. Bucky has to know it.

“I love you,” Steve says without a thought. He doesn’t care how Bucky responds, not right then, not really; he just needs Bucky to know it. Bucky just keeps looking back at him and Steve gives him a small, wavering smile because the tears that had welled up in his eyes before have started to fall.

“Stop crying,” Bucky says, and he shakes his head. Steve opens his mouth to apologize but Bucky scoots closer to him and clamps his metal hand over Steve’s mouth. “And don’t you say you’re sorry. Don’t you ever say you’re sorry for that to me. Jesus, Steve, I love you too, you idiot. I’ve loved you our whole lives, you think I’m gonna stop now that you saved my ass and brought me back to life? You’re dumber’n a box of rocks if you think that.”

Bucky moves his hand and cups Steve’s cheek and stares in his eyes with a fond smirk. He rubs his thumb across Steve’s jaw. “You’re always gonna be my best guy,” Bucky whispers.

Steve has to lean forward and kiss him then and it takes no time at all for Bucky to kiss him back.

Steve hasn't felt this alive in a long, long time, not since 1945. He thought he'd lost this feeling, but here it is. Bucky is in his arms, and his lips are pressed against his. By some miracle this is still his; he still gets to have it. He wants to cry. But he doesn't have time because he has to keep kissing Bucky. He has to keep kissing Bucky Barnes so he knows exactly how much he's loved and how much he means to Steve because, god, this is everything.

He'd had fun in brief flashes of his life since the ice, but he'd been hollow in so many ways. It wasn't until he knew Bucky was alive, until he knew he was safe and still really Bucky, that he'd been able to breathe again and feel all of this like he needed to, and this, actually touching Bucky, is overwhelming in the best possible way. Their lips press together, and their tongues slide and massage, and their hands grasp at every part of each other they can reach. It's not even sex desperation; Steve just wants to feel him. He clutches at Bucky's shoulders, feeling even though his shirt where one shoulder turns to metal but it doesn't matter, it's still Bucky. it's still the shape of him against Steve, and it's familiar as anything ever will be. He kisses him and pulls him close only to have Bucky push him away and get his hands at the hem of Steve's shirt. He yanks it off and throws it, and Steve has no idea where it lands because Bucky's too fast to pull him back to him and kiss him again and let his hands rove over Steve's torso, feeling his pectorals and his abs, and then Bucky's pinching at his nipples the way Steve has always liked. He's always been sensitive there and Bucky remembers and that in itself feels worth a celebration or an orgasm.

"Buck," Steve chokes out, everything filing down to the points of contact between them. Bucky stops and lets his hands drop to Steve's hips where his pants are sliding low. Bucky pushes them off as much as he can while Steve tries to fumble with the zipper and then he's in just his boxers.

"God damn, I missed you," Bucky says, eyes flicking down to Steve's body, flushed with arousal. Steve can't say anything, just kisses Bucky again and his hands are tearing at Bucky's clothes. The two of them get Bucky out of them, and he's not wearing underwear. His cock juts towards his belly, red and hard, and Steve barely notices the scars that litter his body. They don't matter when Bucky's still Bucky and he wants him just as much as he did since they were teenagers. If Bucky's self-conscious, he doesn't show it at all, and Steve loves him so much. He shoves his own boxers off so he's naked too, and Bucky moans. Steve surges forward again to kiss Bucky, trying to show all his desire and emotion just through the kiss.

“Take me to bed,” Bucky tells him once he finally pulls away. Steve nods and he stands up, yanking Bucky along with him. Bucky laughs a little at the way he runs into Steve and the way they’re kissing again without having made any progress towards the bed for who knows how long. Steve falls into the feeling of having Bucky in his arms, all the urgency he’d felt a moment ago fading away at the revelry. It’s Bucky who brings it back in; he lets a hand trail down Steve’s back, making Steve shiver in pleasure, to slip down between his ass cheeks and tease at his hole. Steve ruts into Bucky and nips at his lip before he pulls away and starts moving toward the bedroom, an eager Bucky laughing and following him.

The two of them don’t have to talk as they make their way to Steve’s bed and Steve rustles through his bedside drawer to find condoms and lube without ever having to stop touching Bucky somehow. Bucky kisses Steve’s hands when they’re out of the drawer and it makes Steve take Bucky’s hands so he can do the same, making sure to not hesitate to kiss the metal fingertips the same way he does Bucky’s flesh ones. Bucky whines out a noise Steve isn’t sure how to interpret, but Bucky never pulls away and that’s enough for Steve at that moment. Steve puts the lube in Bucky’s hands and Bucky smiles up at him as he flicks open the lid and squeezes globs of the stuff onto his hand. Steve gasps out in both shock and pleasure when Bucky reaches behind himself instead of for Steve. Steve’s panting in time with Bucky’s happy grunts as he fingers himself open and he kisses at Bucky’s neck and chest in between breaths.

Steve brings one of his hands down to meet Bucky’s after stealing the lube from him and coating his fingers and then he slips one inside of Bucky alongside Bucky’s fingers. Bucky cries out at the stretch and whines, needy and beautiful, when Steve moves with him. Bucky uses his other hand to yank Steve down to share a kiss and when he pulls back, he shoves at Steve’s shoulder until Steve is on his back and then he’s sliding a leg over Steve and is on top of him, his fingers never leaving his ass. Steve brings his hand around so he can hold Bucky’s hips while he watches him fuck himself on his fingers and Bucky smiles down at him.

“I love you,” he says and Steve says it back, but it’s cut off with a groan because Bucky’s moved so that he’s positioned right over Steve’s cock, his hole teasing at the head. “I’m not gonna catch anything, and even if I was going to, what you’ve got is gonna be mine eventually.”

“Terrible way to look at things,” Steve points out, his voice strangled at the effort it takes not to moan with the way Bucky’s swiveling just enough to tease.

“Let me ride you, Stevie.” It’s barely out of Bucky’s mouth when Steve’s nodding without thought and then Bucky’s sinking down letting Steve’s cock open him.

“I love you,” Steve gasps out as the pleasure of being inside Bucky, of feeling the heat of Bucky all around him, hits him. He thinks it’s heaven to be connected to him like this. Bucky looks down at him, meeting his eyes and he smiles, much gentler than the way his hips are moving would indicate. “So god damn much.”

Bucky leans down, and he kisses Steve even while he’s moving, his hole clenching around Steve and his hips swaying, and Steve’s just clutching at Bucky’s hips with his fingers digging into the meat of Bucky’s ass. Steve loses any sense of time while they kiss and his cock rocks in and out of Bucky’s hole. He has no idea when one of Bucky’s hands leaves his face to wrap around his own cock because time has no meaning like this. The only thing that has meaning is Bucky and how good it feels to be with him.

Bucky pulls back from the kiss with a gasp and then Steve can see how he’s moving his hand on his dick, teasing at the head with every upstroke. Steve starts to buck his hips even faster and tries to change the angle just enough that he’s hitting Bucky’s prostate with every single thrust, and Bucky’s metal hand is pressed against Steve’s chest, pushing him down into the bed.

“Fuck, Steve, I’m gonna come. Come with me, come on, sweetheart, come with me.” And as soon as Bucky’s hole starts to tighten around Steve’s cock with the orgasm rocketing through Bucky, Steve’s there too. His cock pulses and he comes, wetting Bucky’s hole slick, and the feeling makes another wave wash through him. Bucky’s moaning on top of Steve and his come is spurting onto his own abs.

Steve pulls him back down on top of him, chest to chest, and he doesn’t even flinch at the feel of Bucky’s sticky come against his stomach. He just throws himself back into kissing Bucky, stopping only long enough to suck in a breath that will let him keep going until they seamlessly can roll into round two.

*

“God, I missed that,” Bucky says eventually. The two of them have finally stopped breathing heavily and Steve’s bed is an absolute mess, but he feels amazing.

“Me too,” Steve says, satisfaction thick in his voice. Bucky turns his head and looks at him and there’s color high on his cheeks still, and his hair is sticking to him from sweat, and Steve loves him so much.

“What, you haven’t had sex in this century?”

Steve laughs, a bark of a sound, and he turns onto his side to face Bucky. He shakes his head as he answers.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant I missed that with you, jerk.”

But Bucky’s smiling too, so Steve knows he knew exactly what he meant. It’s hard not to feel like there are champagne bubbles in his veins when Bucky’s looking at him like that; he’s never been able to get over that feeling.

“So, you have been having sex since you woke up,” Bucky teasingly accuses. Steve laughs again, quieter this time, and he reaches out to take Bucky’s hand. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles; he can’t help it; he just has to kiss him. “And what would the rest of the Avengers think?”

Steve snorts at the way Bucky’s accent has gone back to 1932 and decided to emulate Winifred Barnes while it’s there.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes.” Bucky’s grin is cheeky, and he props himself up on his elbow.

“Tell me about ‘em,” he says.

“What? No.”

“Tell me.”

Steve shakes his head. "Buck, I'm not sure what you want me to do here," Steve laughs at him. But Bucky's face is determined. His brow furrowed and his frown deep. Steve feels drunk on happiness.

"What the hell do you mean you're not sure what you want to do here? I want you to tell me about them. Come on, pal, we always used to do this when we were kids before. Tell me about these people you slept with." Steve just laughs at him again. It's so like Bucky. It's so like the old Bucky that it makes his heart sore and he almost wants to cry just from sheer joy and happiness because he has this back. He can lay in bed with his best guy, and he gets to share a smoke with him in their tangled sheets, and they get to be as ridiculous as they want to be, and Steve loves every second of it so much.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not telling you a damn thing, Barnes.” Bucky reaches a hand out and pushes Steve away by the face and Steve rolls over without a fight. Bucky leans over him and gets in his face like they used to and Steve just leans up to give him a peck. Bucky puts the cigarette they’d been sharing firmly in the ashtray on their nightstand. “I’m not telling you a thing because they don’t count. Only you count, you know.”

Bucky can’t conceal his smile when he tells Steve he’s a punk, and Steve’s never seen anything so pretty in his bed in his whole life. 


End file.
